


Beyond the Time Limit

by Kou (Rietto)



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Also forgetful Victor, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Brain Damage, Gen, M/M, Subtle depiction of mental disorder, forgetful yuuri
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-13
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2019-03-30 18:25:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 28,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13957398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rietto/pseuds/Kou
Summary: Another gold to the pile, and Victor Nikiforov started questioning his future. His friends recommended him taking vacation first, while he thinks things through. Chris recommended Akatsuki Yu-topia Hotspring Resort in Hasetsu.Yuuri Katsuki gave him the answers he needed.Repaying Yuuri would be easier if only he would accept Victor's offer and stop claiming it pointless endeavor.In which Yuuri got into accident in America which prompted his early retirement.





	1. Chapter 1

It all started in a banquet.

It always was, isn’t it?

* * *

Victor complained over champagne during European Banquet.

“I’m tired of all this. Maybe I should just retire.”

This, being the non-existent satisfaction after every competition, the applause sounding polite to his ears nowadays.

Made him feel inadequate, and wasn’t it stupid? He’d just won gold for the umpteenth times, and probably he shouldn’t had said it to Chris. Or Georgi. Or any other athlete really, because ‘tired of winning’ would admittedly sound terrible.

But he’s tired. Really, really tired. Tired of everyone claiming ‘as expected’ after his routine ends, after his score was announced. Frustrated because Yakov had stopped pointing out his miss since few years ago, but he always felt like something needed to be improved but no matter what he did, how he did it, and how high he got, he’s never satisfied and he’s tired of that feeling.

He also missed Makkachin.

Also, he’d like to NOT think that Makkachin was his only friend, who he could be open to. Chris and Georgi were good friends of him too, thank you very much. Even if Victor could be annoying most of the time.

“Well, I won’t stop you if you decide to retire. It’s about time for us, true,” Chris said, neutral before continuing. “I don’t think that’s what you really need though, Vitya. At least not unless you have thought of what to do next.”

Victor, admittedly, hadn’t thought of that.

Most of his lifestyle was supported by his sponsors, and after his retire and surely his importance in skating world diminish, Victor could imagine so would offers to perform and model and everything else.

He’s only good in skating. Without it, he’d be nothing.

Victor wasn’t that dumb. He knew he’s probably depressed. Georgi was right, if he quit without planning ahead the reality that he’d been reduced to nothing would probably be more painful to bear. He wanted more, satisfaction, and he doubted that doing nothing could give him that.

When he was young, applause and praises gave him that, after all. So, yeah, out of attention probably wouldn’t help him.

Victor downed another glass of champagne, too light for his taste. He couldn’t wait to get back to his room and drink vodka in the minibar.

“Well then, I suppose I’ll think about that in the off-season.”

“You do that. Meanwhile, how about a vacation?”

* * *

Chris recommended Hasetsu.

It’s a small town in Kyushu, Japan. Victor could go there right after Worlds. There’s a website to one of the resort, with gleaming review on its hot spring and food. The employee spoke decent English when he called, and on the plus side they didn’t mind him bringing Makkachin.

“How did you find this place?”

“That’s my old friend’s hometown. Actually, I considered coming with you, because the place is just charming, but…”

Chris scowled like he’d just swallow a bitter pill.

“I don’t think he’d be happy to see me.”

Victor left it at that.

* * *

Train, train, train.

Skate, skate, skate.

Another gold medal to the pile.

He’s just so _tired_.

* * *

In the airport, there’s a familiar face.

A young Asian man who still couldn’t drink alcohol, maybe. Clearly not older than twenty years old. Victor recognized him despite the hat and mask. He was there, during World’s banquet, Victor remembered. Just like then, he was messing with his cellphone, snapping pictures and recording videos.

Victor, for the life of him, couldn’t remember where he’s from though. He remembered him being quite a big deal in Worlds despite not placing on the podium, being a first to get to Worlds from his region, and that he seemed to be quite close to Chris, but that’s the extend of his knowledge of him.

“Yo, guys! สวัสดี ครับ, Phichit here, in Fukuoka Airport. So, Mari-nee called and she’s already in the meeting point, so let’s just get our bagga- Whoa! Victor Nikiforov! Oh my god, am I dreaming, oh my god! Guys, it’s Victor Nikiforov!”

Victor waved automatically.

“Wha- Wait, what are you doing here, oh my god! Selfie?”

“Sure.”

The man, Phichit, cheered in triumph before posing with a peace sign. Victor leaned down so that his face would not be cut in the picture due to their height difference. 

“You don’t mind me posting this right? Not that I’m going to post immediately. Probably around next week, I kinda keep this outing secret. Ciao Ciao will make me take bodyguards otherwise.”

“Yes, I don’t mind.”

“Sweet!”

Victor wouldn’t mind if he posted it at that very moment, to be honest. It’s not like he’d made it a secret that he’s going on vacation. Though, to be fair, he might had forgotten to announce it to the world via his accounts. Victor suddenly worried if he’d told Yakov about the exact address of his destination.

Or if he’d said anything else beside “I’m going on vacation after Worlds.”

Him being token forgetful teammate of the Russians, it wouldn’t be surprising if he had not.

Well, it’s not like Victor was blocking them or anything.

(Though he’s not sure if he’d changed his cellphone setting from airplane mode yet or not)

They stood together in what Victor felt was awkward silence as they wait for their baggage to come, Phichit focusing on putting filters on the picture. Victor wondered if he should go to quarantine and get Makkachin first.

“So! You coming alone too? What brings you to Kyushu? Vacation? Inspiration seeking?”

“Both, hopefully.”

“Cool, cool. Japan is really nice place for that. Oh, that’s my bag! Lucky! Okay then, look forward to next season, Victor! See you in GPF!”

Somehow, the man, Phichit was very much like summer storm.

It’s not exactly pleasant, but the unexpectedness was refreshing. What are the odds? Victor was used to be surrounded by high class athlete who regularly dominate the podium, and one Yuri Plisetsky.

His adult peers might be able to reign it in, but Yuri had never been able to hide his frustration well (if at all) and he’s very ambitious. Seeing Phichit who really appeared to be having the time of his life despite not gaining medal was admittedly different.

How enviable.

* * *

Maybe it’s Russian thing. But, Mila always seemed cheerful despite rarely placing in podium, so maybe it’s less of Russian thing and more to Victor thing.

He’s the one damping the mood on everyone.

Then, that cheerful boy too, he’d turn into ambitious and frustrated like everyone else surrounding Victor? Like Victor himself? That sounds depressing. Hopefully not. Skating used to be all about fun and if possible Victor would like for it to stay that way.

If possible, he’d like to regain that joyful feeling again.

Would it possible if…

* * *

Before he forgot, Victor thought that it’s better to look him up.

Oh. He’s from Thailand. No wonder he’s a big deal. Victor didn’t think there’s ever snow in South East Asia, being near equator and all.

Wow, he has no bad side. It’s like every selfie was taken professionally.

Hmmm…

* * *

It’d take hours to get to Hasetsu according to Google. He called the number Yu-topia Hot Spring Resort to inform them that he’d check in later than he’d initially claimed, just to make sure his room wouldn’t be boarded out to someone else. It had taken some time to handle the quarantine documentation due to the difficulty in communication.

(It’s not that they couldn’t speak English, it’s just that both the officer and Victor had thick accent mangling their English, making it harder than it should be.)

That’s why, when he got to Yu-topia Akatsuki Hotspring Resort, it was already late. The front desk was empty, occupied only by a figurine of beckoning cat, and admittedly a bit frustrated, Victor pressed the bell. Somewhere from the back, it sounded so merry as if there was a party.

Victor pressed the bell again, just in case. Even though they said they didn’t mind Makkachin, Victor didn’t dare bringing her in just yet.

A plump woman came with _“haaai~_ ”, lips stretched into what Victor thought was permanent smile. She oozed friendliness. The dimples on her cheeks looked so good in her.

It’s hard to stay frustrated when faced with such smile, Victor found. He felt bad thinking about it, but the feeling was similar with how even after the most frustrating season the mere sight of Makkachin could make him feel all that better. Apparently Makkachin agreed, because she woofed and wagged her tail at the sight of the woman.

“Oh! You must be Mr. Nikiforov, yes? Welcome to Hasetsu! Is that Makkachin? Why is she out, come here sweet thing, come!”

And, Makkachin didn’t hesitate.

She jumped right to the woman’s arms, pushing her down to the tatami floor. She licked the giggling woman’s face, seemingly satisfied with whatever it was she sniffed from her person.

It hadn’t been ten minutes since he set foot in the resort and already, Victor decided to rate the place with five gold stars, would definitely come again and all that, because happy Makkachin made him incredibly happy too.

“Good girl. Yes, I see now, sweet Makkachin. No wonder he wanted you.”

Victor’s internal cooing skidded into a halt.

“I’m sorry, what?”

Victor hoped he’d misheard her, because it’s as if she’s just saying that someone wanted Makkachin and that’s probably why they let him brought her in the first place. For that person to kidnap her.

“You skate, yes? My son. Excited to see you. Big fan. Asked for a dog like this one! Named after you. We have dog, so this one is fine. But not in dining area and spring, yes? Sometimes guests don’t want animals.”

Oh, thank god. That’s fair enough, and it was basically what they told him before by phone when he made the reservation. And really, the idea that somewhere in the resort there’s a puppy named after him was really adorable.

“Now, your room. We’ve had it prepared. Sign here… for a week, yes? Here’s the key. Is that all your luggage? Let me help you with that. Have you eaten? This is still dinner time, so I’d be happy if you want to order.”

“That sounds nice,” since admittedly Victor only got coffee in the airport and the last meal he had was plane food. “What do you recommend?”

“Katsudon is my specialty,” she said, obviously proud. “Pork cutlet with rice. Do you eat pork? If not, we can exchange it with chicken, no problem.”

“Pork sounds lovely,” he said, even though it’s not advised in his diet regimen. Because he’s in vacation and he needed some taste of ‘no-you’re-not-a-skater’ life and that’s why he’s there. Because almost everyone told him to ‘get a life outside skating’ and nothing says ‘not an athlete’ like unrestrained appetite.

The woman laughed, head bobbing in what appeared to be agreement.

“I’ll bring it to your room then.”

“Actually…”

The woman turned to him curiously, her comforting smile never faltering.

“Do you serve alcohol?”

* * *

They did serve alcohol in Akatsuki Yu-topia Hotspring Resort. They did, but sadly for that day all alcohol had been reserved for the celebration in the banquet hall.

Apparently, some of the attendants were locals whom Hiroko (the resort owner slash keeper) knew personally, who apparently had black holes for stomachs and livers of the gods, and she didn’t want to disappoint them in their celebration.

There’s something odd with the way Hiroko explained it, but Victor couldn’t quite put it in words.

She pointed out the places they keep the extra pillows, clothes and flip flops, towels and toiletries, and then explaining the schedule and rules of the hotspring. Shower first before dipping, to not dirty the water, she said. There’s a private pool available for those who mind nudity, though it’s not outdoors.

Also, no taking pictures, someone’s nude ended up on internet once and there’s better not be a repeat.

“It’s already cleaning time, but can not. Everyone helps in celebration, so it’s okay. You can bath now, while I cook for you. I’ll watch over Makkachin meanwhile, no problem!”

Well, who was Victor to refuse that?

He did come mostly for the hotspring. Also, if he understood correctly, it’d mean the hotspring would be empty.

Hell yeah.

“Please enjoy. Don’t worry to call if there’s something,” Hiroko said with a bow, before she skipped ahead presumably to the kitchen, cooing after Makkachin in Japanese all the while. The poodle happily trotted after her with tongue lolling and tail wagging, steps as light as Hiroko was.

* * *

Victor was about to go to the spring when his phone rang.

He took a deep breath and answered it with as much cheer as he could muster.

“Hello, Yakov~! How’re you doing?”

“Vitya, what the hell-“

Yakov had approved of his vacation. But apparently, he couldn’t quite accept Victor disappearing the very next day after Worlds was over. He’d thought that Victor would return to Russia before planning the whole thing.

Victor always sent him his itinerary. His schedules and plans.

Which was why Yakov was understandably furious when he’d knocked on Victor’s room, about to ask him reason why he’d skipped dinner, only to find out that he’d checked out. To hear the other skaters commenting nonchalantly that they didn’t realize the vacation Victor talked about was _immediately_ after Worlds.

Yakov yelled at him, told him to imagine his panic when he heard that Makkachin was already out of her usual kennel days before Victor was supposed to return from Worlds.

Makkachin.

The one who had been joked around as Victor’s one true love. Beside skating that was, because skating was an activity and not a sentient being. Though whether Makkachin was sentient or not was debatable.

Which was, rude. Victor just hadn’t found the right person yet. Of course he’s not in love with Makkachin, no matter how good she was. She’s a _dog_.

Also about how he had to find out from Chris, because not even Georgi knew exactly where he was. And not even Chris was sure because Victor never told him if he’s following his suggestion, or the timing of his vacation.

(Sorry, Georgi)

“You said you’ll arrange for your own tickets this time, and I let you because how noisy you were when we got business instead of first class last year. I didn’t expect you to want to arrange for your own tickets because you’re not coming home with us. What the hell, Vitya?! Do you have a death wish?!”

Victor put the phone on the vanity table while he unpacked his trunk. He had a bag full of dirty laundry from his time in Maihama. He wondered if Hiroko accept dry cleaning.

Yakov kept on rambling.

“Vitya! Are you listening?!”

“Yes, yes! Of course I am, Yakov. Sorry. I’ll come back next week.”

Maybe.

Truth was Victor hadn’t brought ticket back to St Petersburg. It’s still March anyway, and he’s tired and uninspired.

Usually, he’d plan for the next season as soon as Worlds ended. He usually had a lot to choreograph, for shows beside for competitions, and he usually personally handled most of the costume designing. Victor must admit that he couldn’t play instrument to save his life, but his vision was usually so exact that working with others to compose his music took a while too. That’s beside the many offer he had to consider on the side, like commercial and modelling jobs.

Once upon a time, he’s happy with the tight schedule.

Somehow, he’d gotten tired and frustrated with them all, and yet he couldn’t really find the courage to think about what’s going to happen if he just stopped.

Victor wanted to know.

At least, he wanted to get a taste of it, to prepare him for the worst.

People expect him to create new things always every year, far more than what’s expected of his peers. And yet, Victor knew that his surprises had come to be something that’s expected. Something normal. At that point he didn’t see the point of even trying.

Maybe the surprise for next season could be him skating to past routines for the first time in years. The theme could be ‘Glory’. He could announce his retirement when he got his next gold in GPF.

(And wasn’t it sad that his plan for next season was practically completed?)

“Yeah, don’t worry. I’ve already planned for next season.”

It wasn’t a lie. Not exactly.

“Come on, Yakov. Just this once.”

“As if there’s next time with you.”

He grumbled and the line was cut off.

Victor heaved a sigh he didn’t know was holding, choked on a sob he didn’t think he’d ever let out.

He’d known, apparently.

* * *

It’s obvious, really. So obvious.

But, no one ever mentioned it to him.

Maybe they had.

Maybe Yakov had.

Maybe Victor had just been deaf to those suggestions, the idea that only gold mattered was too ingrained in him.

It’s not as if Victor was someone who _listens_.

Some people learn better by reading. Some by listening. Listening was never Victor’s strongest suit. Everyone knew that. Victor learnt the best by moving his body.

No one, nothing ever moved him.

He wondered if he could ever be moved again.

* * *

Sulfur was great. It’s good for skin. Also the heat was perfect.

It was March, the cherryblossom had started to bud and yet the air was still cold. The contrast felt nice for some reason. Perhaps because he’s tense in the inside after the almost one-sided talk with Yakov earlier and heat was always perfect to force muscles to relax. Same logic probably applied in case of mind tenseness.

Hiroko warned him against bathing for too long, but it’s just so relaxing. The economy seat was surely the culprit behind his sore muscles, his bags were the last to come out, and the guys from pet travel service really tested his patience with their inability to speak understandable English.

At least Hiroko used short sentences with long pauses in between. Also she used gestures liberally. Her smile made it hard to be mad at her too.

Makkachin loved her too.

Chris was right. It’s a charming place.

She wouldn’t mind, probably. Victor couldn’t be the first of her guests who fell asleep in the bath.

“Is it really okay?”

“Yeah. No one would be here at this hour. It’s Mari-nee’s turn to clean, but she always does it in the morning anyway.”

Victor let out a growl, screwing his eyes shut at the sudden onslaught of headache. He never knew how much he needed peace and quiet until it’s taken as suddenly and forcefully as they came, like falling from a jump he thought he’d made.

“Wow! What a privilege! To have the whole bath just for me!”

“I’m bathing too, you know.”

“I’m bathing with you in your home. The glorious Akatsuki Yu-topia Hotspring Resort. I’ve been dreaming about this since our first meeting. My fifteen year old self is thanking not only God, but also Jesus.”

“You’re not even Christian!”

The sound of running shower was loud in the silence, almost as loud as the men’s laughter and chattering. It took a while for Victor to realize that the men were speaking English, which wasn’t actually normal in the rural town in Japan even if the employees in Akatsuki Yu-topia were all able to speak it, and that one of the voices sounded familiar.

As in, _‘I’m pretty sure I heard this person’s voice just few hours ago_ ’ familiar.

(Which admittedly not a good feeling, after one case too many of stalkers)

“May I wash your back, darling?”

“Oh my god, no! You promised me you wouldn’t play out the anime tropes!”

“It’s from comics! Totally different.”

A loud splashing sound, followed by surprised cry and more laughter. Then hasty footsteps. Victor could imagine it, really. Two young men (if not boys) joking around each other until one decided to move their bantering to the more comfortably warm spring. It’s adorable enough that it’s not as hard as usual to bring smile to his face, at least.

The door opened, and a tanned young man stepped out, still laughing.

At least, until his eyes met Victor’s. In which his eyes widened comically and jaw dropped. He also dropped his towel.

Automatically, Victor waved.

Phichit Chulanont waved back, obviously in a daze. It’s such contrast to his reaction in the airport, Victor thought. He rose from the bath and toweled himself dry, not quite in the mood for company. Specially not a skater who would probably ask him about things related to next season.

Better leave while he can maintain civility, he thought.

“So, you’re staying here too. What a coincidence.”

“… uh… yeah… I’m staying until next week, but you already… know that… holy shit, you’re staying here too?! Wow! No one told me anything about this!“

Victor laughed to hide a wince, remembering his conversation with Yakov earlier.

That’s because no one knew about the trip, apparently.

“I didn’t want to be followed, as you are.”

“Yeah, but I’m friends with the owners of this inn, and I’ve been with Yuuri since I arrived. Yuuri didn’t say anything about you. Like, a warning to not take your pics or something. None of that! Speaking of, Yuuri! Come here, quick!”

“Yuri…?”

“Yes, yes, I’m coming.“

The one who stepped out of the shower area was not Yuri Plisetsky, thank God. It’s a Japanese man who resembled Hiroko. Maybe her son, the one she said was Victor’s fan. Victor didn’t think he’d be an adult. He’d imagined a child begging for a puppy because his idol had one, but then again Victor had been in the field for a long time.

“Look who’s here.”

Pair of brown eyes met blue.

The man, Yuuri, smiled. But, that’s smile of a retail worker, polite smile for esteemed guests. It’s the same kind of smile Victor flashed to his fans and reporters during interview.

It’s a smile for strangers, just to be polite.

“Hello. Good evening.”

“Good evening to you too.”

Was it really this person? Hiroko’s son who was Victor’s fan? Maybe she was just saying that? Or maybe she had another son?

This person reacted very differently with Victor’s fans.

“You seem familiar.”

He said, head tilted in questioning gesture.

“I’m a skater. I skated with Phichit in Maihama until yesterday.”

And then, his countenance changed. The man looked down, avoiding his gaze, and perhaps it’s a nervous tick, his hand went up and gripped his toned bicep. He took a step back as if wanting to flee.

“… O… oh? You’re in Worlds too? That’s… impressive…”

“Yuuri, don’t you recognize him?”

He did.

He most certainly did.

It’s a strange thing, to not be recognized at first glace by a supposed fan. It’s even stranger when they ended up trembling as if in fear after they recognized him.

When Yuuri could finally muster the courage to meet Victor’s gaze again, teardrops were already trailing down his rosy cheeks.

“I do.”

“Yuuri-“

“I’m okay. Sorry, I’m just… Victor Nikiforov… right? I’m sorry… I didn’t… I don’t expect this. I’m not… I think I forgot… Yeah, I’m forgetful, so… this is a surprise… I thought I’d never see you…”

Victor had always been terrible with emotion. He could hardly understand his own, let alone others. He’s especially terrible with crying people. Victor had image to maintain, he never cried since he started winning. Public wouldn’t like a brat. He had almost no memory of being comforted when crying, and so he didn’t have things to emulate.

(Usually in movies, crying people could be calmed down with a kiss, but he doubted that kissing Yuuri would help him. Also, it’d risk Victor of getting kicked out of the inn. Yuuri was one of the _owners._ )

“I’m a fan.”

He said, like an afterthought, and Victor couldn’t find it in himself to believe him. But, what else could he do? What else could he say?

“We can take pictures together later, in commemoration.”

Yuuri stared at him with wide eyes, opened mouth and trembling lips. Colors drained from his face. When he laugh, there’s no mirth in it, and Victor was so confused.

“… I’d like that.”

And then, he started sobbing in earnest. Hiccupping as tears kept on flowing despite his attempt to rub his eyes dry.

“Wha- Yuuri…? Are you-”

“I’m… I’m sorry, I’ll just… Ah, I think Mom is calling me. Ex-excuse me…”

He practically ran away. Victor turned to Phichit, who seemed as confused as Victor did. Phichit glanced at Yuuri’s retreating figure, then at Victor, before apparently decided to run after his friend. Victor didn’t dare to come out of the bathing area until he was sure Yuuri and Phichit had left, afraid of even worsening the situation.

Yuuri.

Most likely not just a mere fan. There’s something else between them. Something terrible enough that mere pleasantries was enough to drove him to tears.

“Have I met him…?”

It’s a first. Victor had never met a fan who was clearly uncomfortable with meeting him until they cry and run away.

It… hurt, unexpectedly. Even though he felt annoyed that his alone time was disturbed, even though most of the time nowadays he preferred to avoid fan meets and interviews, when Yuuri ran away from him he felt hurt instead of relief.

Huh.


	2. Chapter 2

After bath, Victor waited in the dining area. There were pictures hung in the walls, of Hiroko and her family and also some of the guests.

One particular photo made him stop and stare.

It was a photo of three young men in a theme park, and he knew that photo. Victor had seen it somewhere before. One of them was obviously Yuuri, the tanned boy was most likely pre growth spurt Phichit, and the last one was…

Chris…?

“Ah, Mr. Nikiforov. Here you are!”

Hiroko called from the hallway, apparently done with dinner preparation. She was holding tray of food, Makkachin by her side.

Victor wondered if she’d heard of what happened in the bath. Probably not, if her smile was any indication.

“I’m sorry I took a while. Your meal is ready. Let me bring it to your room. Or would you prefer to eat here?”

“My room, please. I feel bad leaving Makkachin for long.”

“Of course.”

Also, Victor didn’t think it’s good idea risking another meeting with Yuuri, at least until he knew what made Yuuri uncomfortable with him. It’s like when faced with a scandal. It’s better to investigate everything before making statements.

He’d ask Hiroko, but Victor figured asking the owner of the inn he’s staying if his son really was a fan would be awkward at best and dangerous at worst. It’s closing midnight, and Victor would rather not be kicked out until morning. He sucked at Japanese and finding another inn where he could bring Makkachin sounded impossibly hard.

(When he tried checking later, he’d find out that it’s actually worse than that. According to one of the websites promoting Hasetsu, Akatsuki Yu-topia Hotspring Resort was the last standing inn in the area. It was plain impossible to find another inn because there _wasn’t one_.)

Asking Phichit was probably a better idea, then again, the chances were that he’d be with Yuuri. So, that couldn’t be done immediately.

Hiroko placed his food on the low tables, arranging it while humming.

A bowl of breaded something, a bowl of soup, and a bowl of salad. As for the drinks, steaming potful of green tea.

Hiroko didn’t stand up and leave after she’d placed all of the food in her imagined proper setting. She just scooted aside and smiled up at Victor expectantly.

“Please, have a seat. Enjoy your food.”

Was it normal? Victor wasn’t sure. Did it count as roomservice? He never had the waiter waiting for him as he eats in his room, but he’d also never stayed in traditional Japanese inn before. Perhaps it’s standard service in the establishment.

Victor sat down gingerly, Makkachin’s a comforting weight on his thigh. She huffed and closed his eyes, deciding that Victor’s thigh was a proper pillow and that she’s too tired to keep Victor company lucidly. Hiroko giggled and cooed.

“Please.”

Victor had a bite of the breaded meat. It melted in his mouth and the taste was indescribably _good_. Perfect combination of sweetness and savory, and the meat was moist with whatever sauce Hiroko used soaking them and the _al dente_ rice liberally.

“Vkusno! This is… this is delicious!”

Food fit for kings… no, gods!

“I’m glad you like it!”

“Yes, I’ll order it everyday!”

“Good, good. Put it on your site? Will add discount.”

Victor stopped chewing and turned to Hiroko. Her smile was the perfect picture of innocence, and Victor found that other than it’s impossible to be mad at her, it’s also impossible to say ‘no’ to her. Not with that smile. What kind of genius taught this sweet old lady the power of internet and human tendency to get what their idols getting like brainwashed plebians?

(The answer was a certain hamster loving meme lord, apparently)

Victor gave her a thumb up. She responded in kind.

* * *

After he finished eating, Victor thought it’d be the end of it, but no, instead Hiroko asked him to follow her. It’s late, but Victor wasn’t a child with curfew and fixed bed time. He’s an adult with insomnia, and Hiroko promised him alcohol in the back.

Of course he’d gone with her.

Besides, Victor remembered Chris saying his flight back to Switzerland would be at night. Chris uploaded a picture of him in airport earlier, captioned _au revoire Japan_ with numerous emojis. He’d be unable to respond anyway, even if Victor wanted to question him about Yuuri.

“Alcohol. We have sake and beer. Local. All good.”

Well, she didn’t disappoint Victor with the food, so maybe she wouldn’t this time too. Even though Victor didn’t expect anything to beat the beer he had in Germany that one time.

“I thought you said no alcohol available now?”

“Yes. For celebration. But they won’t mind. Will be happy, for sure. More the merrier.”

Hiroko brought him to a room full of merry half-drunks. There were two doors to that room, and she opened the one on the back, probably meant for waiters. No one as much as glanced back to them, probably also because the sound of laughter completely drowned the sound of door sliding.

A party. A celebration.

A banquet?

Everyone seemed so happy. It’s so different with the parties Victor was used to.

His sponsors and patrons would never wear casual clothes like the people here, mostly only t-shirt and pants while Victor himself wore green clothes Hiroko called ‘ _jinbei’_. Always expensive designer outfits, thick make up and masks. Even though Victor couldn’t understand one word they’re saying, he just knew it. People in the party Victor was used to would never laugh as hard as the people there.

Also, most of the time it’s invitation only.

There’s a woman on the front, standing on top of raised platform. She raised her huge glass of beer and said something in Japanese. Universal gesture for a toast, Victor thought. He raised his own, joining the cry of what he assumed was agreement to the toast just so he wasn’t out of place.

The beer Hiroko gave him was not bad.

There’s one old man who’s furiously drawing on his stomach, his friends all goading him on. There’s a boy fallen asleep (at least, Victor hoped he’s asleep and not passed out due to alcohol poisoning) in a corner, his body being used as pillow by three identical girls. The music that was played was not familiar, but the beat was easy enough to follow. Some people were singing along, raising their glasses of beer and swaying to the music.

Victor couldn’t help humming along too as he poured more beer to his empty glass.

It’s contagious, the good mood of the attendees. Victor couldn’t understand one thing and admittedly he’s having more fun than he usually would.

He’d seen some movies about people crashing in on parties uninvited. Victor could never see the appeal until that night. Admittedly, drinking free beer (at least, he thought Hiroko said it’d be free) and simply watching people having the time of their lives was fun.

Almost as fun as playing with Makkachin, actually. And that’s a high bar.

There’s just one thing.

The woman in front kept on glancing at him for some reason, her smile wide and hazy eyes narrowed. She approached a couple, a pretty young woman leaning against a bulky man’s shoulder with wide grin. They turned to Victor, the first woman pointed at him, and apparently shared a secret joke because then they burst out laughing.

Self-conscious, Victor looked down to his beer.

There had been too many people claiming Victor Nikiforov looked ‘ _good for his age’_. They might had meant it as a compliment, but it’s a bit insulting for Victor. It sounded like things said to old people. He was still 27, thank you very much. Even though he’s at the age to retire from figure skating, he’s still at the prime of his youth.

Supposedly.

It made him worry about possibility of getting modelling job post retirement, with how youth and beauty being the usual main attraction of the models.

“Yuuri? Are you really doing what I’m thinking you’re doing?”

The familiar voice along with faint _tap-tap_ sound of footsteps from the hallway, audible through the paper walls, made Victor curse.

”When in Rome do as Romans do. Japan’s age limit is twenty, and… you said it’s fine as long as you’re not drunk. Oh, we have _amazake_ too, if you prefer that. That one is nonalcoholic.”

“Okay, I’m happy about this, like you can’t believe. It’s the second best present I got, the first being free katsudon because _hashtag blessed_. But, are you okay? With this, I mean. You were pretty… uh… shaken, earlier.”

“I was just shocked, that’s all. I’m over it now, really.”

“Yuuri, you’ve never really liked parties. I don’t want you to force yourself.”

“No, really. I’m fine now. Besides, I’ll wake up better tomorrow if I can find ‘ _Father didn’t belly dance’_ written in my diary. He always does that every year.”

Victor decided belatedly that bolting was the correct course of action.

Perhaps it’s the alcohol already dulling his mind. After all, he’d consumed few glasses at that point.

Phichit was not Japanese, but it’s as if he’s a local hero all the same. Everyone cheered when they came in. He waved and answered some of them back with Japanese, albeit accented and stilted. They laughed together, Phichit, the woman with long hair who asked for a toast, a couple almost too drunk to stay awake, an old man cheerily boasting about his painted stomach, and Yuuri.

The woman pointed at Victor and laughed hard.

The old man chirped something and laughed harder, but Victor couldn’t understand it. His Japanese was limited to _ohayou_ for good morning, _konnichiwa_ for good afternoon, and _arigatou_ for thank you.

Yuuri sighed visibly as the women cried out presumably in disbelief, and when he raised his head his retail worker smile was already on. He raised his hand in a wave at Victor.

Victor waved back.

He would love to assure Phichit that he didn’t mean to be there and cause discomfort on his friend, the owner of the inn. In fact, he’s more worried than Phichit visibly was.

But, the sentiment wasn’t shared with everyone else.

The women and old man all shoved Yuuri forward, as if encouraging him to go to Victor.

And Yuuri…

Didn’t seem as bothered by it…? Surprisingly?

He’s coming, actually. Alone, at that, Phichit being served with sake by others while still obviously keeping eye at Yuuri. With faint blush on his cheeks and ears, little by little the fake impression went away. Admittedly, Yuuri did seem more like a fan, a shy one if that.

Victor started worrying for a whole different reason.

“Good evening.”

“Good evening.”

“Uhm… I’m… I’m Yuuri.”

Answering with, ‘ _yes, I know_ ’ might be rude, so Victor didn’t and just mention his name back to Yuuri, to be polite. Yuuri’s nervous tic, of rubbing his hand to his bicep, was in plain sight.

It’s awkward. He watched as Yuuri sat in front of him tentatively, avoiding eye contact.

“I’m sorry for earlier. In the bath. I was… I didn’t expect to see you. I forgot you were coming. My sister told me about picking Phichit up in airport and that’s all I remember.”

“It’s alright, Yuuri. I’m sorry too, for surprising you. I understand. I’m always so excited to see Chris too, often until I forget my schedule for the day. Actually, I came here because he recommended it to me. He said this is where his old friend lives.”

“… Chris…?”

“Yes. The skater from Switzerland.”

Yuuri looked up at him, brows furrowed as if confused.

Old friend didn’t always mean close friend. Were they close? They seemed friendly with each other at least on the pictures. Yuuri obviously knew Chris, they took pictures together. Maybe they’re Phichit’s friends, and so had ‘ _friend of my friend is my friend’_ kind of relationship. Maybe Yuuri still call him Mr. Giacometti.

“You mean Christophe Giacometti? You’re… you’re close with him?”

“I’d say so. We often take jobs together, and we started talking. We go out together often, when we’re assigned to the same competition or when we’re doing the same jobs.”

He seemed to be mulling it over. Pink tongue poking out to wet his lips, another tic of his, Victor observed.

“I was close. With Chris,” he said. But he seemed unsure with it, his brows were still furrowed.

 _‘But you’re closer to Phichit_ ,’ Victor wanted to say, but didn’t. There’s something more here, he could sense it somehow. The happy pictures and Chris’s reluctance to visit said it all.

Perhaps driven of that thought, he unconsciously glanced at Phichit. The Thai skater was surrounded by the triplets, who must had wakened up due to cheerful noise upon his arrival. They’re enthusiastically chatting over something in Phichit’s cellphone. The adults were offering him all kinds of alcoholic beverage.

“ _Kanpai_!”

That meant… hurray? Maybe?

“If it’s not for his Japanese, he’d be unmistakably local.”

“Haha, yeah. Phichit chats with them a lot. Uhm, my teacher Minako, and my childhood friends’ family, I mean. And, I think my sister too? He’s already like family.”

“Is this party for him?”

“No… it isn’t… Uhm, it’s flower viewing after-party. We had picnic in Hasetsu Castle, where the plum blossoms are. Sakura viewing is… more famous, but we’re usually too busy to celebrate. More tourists and guests, so… yeah.”

“Oh, wow. Is it alright if I join in? It’s your family’s private party, isn’t it?”

“It’s alright. My parents won’t mind. They always think more is merrier. And, I’m sure my mom was the one who brought you here. If you leave, she’ll feel bad, so please stay. If… if you want to, that is… I’m not…”

Victor couldn’t help but to chuckle.

Yuuri had become so red and fidgety, it’s almost pitifully cute. And, when faced with his laughing idol, impressively so, his face became even more red. But, his lips were quirked up in a shy smile. Yuuri knew there’s no malice behind it.

“I’d like that.”

“O… oh… yeah, that’s… good. I’m glad. Uhm, I’ll get… more beer for you… yeah, please wait.”

Victor winced when Yuuri turned around in haste and almost slammed an old man sitting near his back, but found the scene to be funny enough to laugh once again to his beer. Yuuri spoke quickly in Japanese, maybe just one word in repeat, as he rushed back to where his friends were.

( _Gomenasai_ … sorry, maybe?)

Phichit seemed relieved and apparently decided to tease the hell out of his friend, if Yuuri’s cry of his name was to go by. The women were also screaming about something, and sometimes one of them would point at Victor, who couldn’t believe they would actually do that without attempt to be discreet. Maybe it’s the alcohol taking effect.

Oh, wow.

They really had no intention of sucking up to anyone here, unlike in the parties Victor was used to.

Someone could really end up belly dancing. Probably an old man. Not a sexy one, either.

“There’s no way I’m missing this,” Victor said, particularly to no one.

* * *

In the end, Victor didn't get to see any old man belly dancing.

Instead, what he saw was even better.

“Phichit-kun, I can’t drink this! I’m not-“

“You are, Yuuri. You are if I already am. DRINK AND SEDUCE THAT MAN!”

They’re talking in English, this time. Maybe because almost everyone present was fluent in that language and Phichit needed higher level of conversational skill to convince what seemed to be very cute and shy boy to drink what he claimed to be liquid courage.

He succeeded. The details on how was not clear, as Victor was trying to not be obvious in keeping his ears and eyes on them, but Yuuri ended up drinking what he was given and more.

When Yuuri returned to him, flushed and a bit dazed, Victor had no idea what he expected. Or what the people there expected. It’s just admittedly amusing.

“Hi… again…”

“Hi, Yuuri.”

He didn’t bring any beer. At least not for Victor. Yuuri slammed a glassful of beer to the table, his third Victor noticed. From the way his hand gripped on the handle and not let go, Victor made a safe bet that Yuuri brought that for his own consumption.

“I forgot, Victor.”

“Oh? What did you forget?”

Aside from Victor’s arrival. And beer he promised.

“Uuuumm… I don’t know! A lot! I forget all the time. How should I know what I forgot, I forgot!”

He drank few mouthful after that outburst.

“That’s a fair point, Yuuri.”

“Hehehe… I’m glad. So glad you understand. You know, I write. A lot. Reminders! So I can look back when I forget. But, I can’t keep up.”

He’s a bit teary eyed already.

He’s so cute.

“Why can’t you keep up?”

Yuuri honest to God pouted. Pursed his lips and everything.

“So many… so many notes… I can’t.”

“I see.”

“I even forgot… that you’re coming. Even though I made… I made plans…”

“What plans?”

“On what I should tell you. So, Victor… I’m a fan. I very very big fan! Am I big now, I don’t know. I’m fat. Easily easily get fat. So big. Big fan. Because I’m fat. Also because I love your skating so much!”

Yuuri was not big. He’s lean, with defined muscles. From one look, it’s as if he’s more active than even Victor and he’s an athlete. As Victor wondered who told him such things, Yuuri decided to continue his rambling.

“I’ve been a fan since Sofia... Sleeping beauty! That black suit with its half-skirt was so cool! It’s the coolest rendition of Lilac Fairy EVER. Not your best routine… But… I like it. You don’t and it’s okay, but I still like it.”

“… wait, what?”

Yuuri smiled just like Mila when she’s trying to calm down raging Yuri Plisetsky. More like a smirk, really.

“Too similar to Bolshoi. It’s your most non-you skate. Except for the outfit, that’s probably you. Hehehe, you hate it~ I know. You tried hard, and it works! But, you’re not… completely satisfied. You make everything yourself after that. Better. More you. But that’s the start. ‘ _Gasp, without Lilac Fairy Victor wouldn’t start making choreo_ ,’ I thought. So I like it. A lot.”

Victor stared dumbfounded.

True, that year Yakov still hadn’t trusted him enough to make his own choreography and had demanded Victor to do as his ex-wife Lilia said. It’s not that Victor didn’t like ballet, but Lilia was a perfectionist who didn’t want to compromise at all, even to Victor’s own opinion and tastes.

Everyone thought the fairy was a good one, but in truth? No, not at all. She’s actually as evil as Carrabosa. Maybe crueler. Death? Death is easy. Uncertainty and stasis, that’s true hell. She wasn’t helping Aurora, no. She’s worsening the curse, can’t you see?

She’s going to take control of the kingdom, can’t you see?

Victor had wanted more jump. Lilia didn’t, wanting to focus on spins and steps to be as close as possible to the original ballet. Yakov agreed with her, because Victor was still in Junior and still growing.

Lilia also suggested a pastel monstrosity at first.

Pastel was so not Victor’s color. He’s pale beauty. He needed dark coloring to complement his complexion, and to fit the image of the fairy in his mind. Lilia didn’t understand that.

So, Victor made a bet with her and Yakov. If Victor could get gold even in what Lilia said to be the ‘ _demonic monstrosity of a fairy_ ’, then he’d get more leeway on interpretation and everything else. As should be normal, since he’s the one performing, really.

And, Victor did win. Grand Prix, European, Worlds… He even broke world records.

He thought of another character from another story as he skated in attempt to satisfy both Lilia and his own ideas, and succeeded.

He gained more freedom afterwards.

But, he’d never said anything about it. To everyone’s knowledge, Victor Nikiforov loved that routine. He was at the peak of his growth and he managed to break records even though everyone expected him to not even place.

(Victor wondered why that sounded familiar)

“… clean the table.”

Too dumbstruck to question Yuuri, Victor moved the glasses and bottles into the woven straw flooring. Yuuri stood up and downed his beer in one go, finishing it all in seconds before sighing in pleasure audibly. He shoved the glass to Victor’s chest.

“... Yuuri?”

Yuuri stepped up into the table.

Victor marveled over the obviously high quality wood, able to withstand Yuuri’s weight without so much as a creak. His gaze then traveled up, from the table to Yuuri’s legs and thigh and continued up up until he met Yuuri’s bright brown eyes.

“She’s this, right? The fairy?”

He asked, before getting into position and…

“Oh my God…”

Despite being obviously tipsy, Yuuri managed to do _fouettes_.

The room erupted to cheers, but Victor barely noticed them.

Only Yuuri, only this Japanese man with his confident smile and flushed cheeks. The way he could do what probably was one of the hardest movement in ballet on top of low table with only socks on.

Somebody started counting.

Someone was probably recording the whole thing.

Victor laughed, still dazed, and decided to join them. He took out his phone and took pictures, following the counting in English since he couldn’t follow after _ichi, ni, san_ , _shi_.

Five, six, seven… until thirty-two, in which Yuuri stopped his spinning and bowed to Victor. He seemed pleased, basking in the cheers of everyone present.

“Victor, I did great, right? I was right, right?”

The most perfect rendition of Odile, and he’s wearing worn out sweater and faded jeans.

If he was any more drunk, Victor would have kissed the man.

Instead he just opened his arms and caught Yuuri as he jumped from the table, giggling into his chest.

“Is this part of your plan, Yuuri? Seducing me with surprise ballet performance?”

Oh, he’s apparently more intoxicated that he’d realized, if he could throw off words like ‘seduce’ without worry and doubt plaguing his mind.

“Is it working?”

Yuuri glanced up to him through his long lashes, his hands slowly travelling up to Victor’s neck, trapping him so that all he could see was Yuuri.

Holy shit.

Where’s that man again? Who stuttered and wouldn’t met Victor’s eyes? Where’s the shy smile and nervous tic?

“Let’s go over them. To make sure.”

"... okay. Then, let's start with-"

* * *

Everything started in a banquet.

It always did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kanpai = cheers  
> Gomenasai = sorry  
> ichi, ni, san, shi = one, two, three, four
> 
> There's flower viewing tradition in Japan, and the most famous is of course, sakura viewing usually in April. This story, however is in March and sakura isn't in season yet. Instead, the banquet is for plum blossom viewing after party, which IS in season in March. It's said that umemi (plum-blossom viewing) is more famous to old people due to the rowdy nature of hanami (sakura viewing), but I made it so that people in that banquet prefers umemi because during hanami season they'd be too busy tending to guests to have party of their own.
> 
> Reference to the ballet Swan Lake and Sleeping Beauty. Lilac Fairy is the last fairy about to bless Aurora, said to be the strongest fairy. She then would change the curse from instant death to 100 years sleep and she would also be the one who chose The Prince and assist him in defeating Carrabossa.  
> Odile is the daughter of the evil wizard who cursed Odette. She's said to be transformed into Odette's exact double and fool Siegfried into proposing to her instead of Odette, dooming Odette to eternity as a swan.  
> Yuuri basically asked Victor if in his mind the Lilac Fairy was like Odile, seemingly perfect only to be a fake conning everyone into dooming the main character into worst fate.


	3. Chapter 3

Everything was a blur afterwards. Victor remembered only bits and pieces in the morning, but he was certain that Yuuri talked a lot about Victor’s past performances, and pulled him into more dances.

The pictures and videos in his phone was a pleasant reminder. He looked at them fondly as he composed an email to one of his usual composers for a commision, asking for a meeting sometime in the future for exact details.

Victor thanked whatever higher beings which made him experiment with a lot of different dances after he got into Senior, because Yuuri could perform all kinds of dances and, just as Phichit had said, Victor would like to thank not only God but also Jesus for that.

There’s Yuuri on top of the low table, spinning and spinning, performing perfect 32 fouettes like he was Odile herself.

Then, there’s Yuuri holding on to Victor’s neck, slyly smiling as he whispered to Victor’s reddening ears.

“Okay… your programs… Victor, all of them are related to ‘Love’ isn’t it?”

He’d hummed a tune Victor recognized as the arrangement to ‘ _L'amour est un oiseau rebelle_ ’ he’d commissioned on his first year in Senior, not yet brave enough to bring the music only he could hear to the ice. He’d asked the composer to use violin in place of Carmen’s voice, since the rule still forbade for sung lyrics then.

_‘Love’s all around you, then it’s gone.’_

_‘Now it’s back.’_

Yuuri let go, then started dancing what Victor recognized as flamenco, sizing Victor up and teasingly bumping into him like shark circling its prey.

It’s hard to refuse the invitation. Victor followed his movement, and Yuuri barked a delighted laugh and spun as if challenging him in retaliation.

Who was he seeing, Victor wondered. Don Jose? Escamillo? Maybe he’d voiced that out loud even during the party, because the next picture was of Yuuri putting his hands above his ears, his index finger up while others were curled. Like a horn, Victor realized. A bull’s horn.

Next picture, he’s holding someone’s coat and played matador.

Victor watched in wonders, feeling giddy with warmth, as he went through the rest of the photos. The last one was of Yuuri sitting on the floor, leaning back to his hands. They’re tired, after so many rounds of dancing. Tired, but satisfied.

At least, Victor did.

“I’ve seen the cards,” Victor remembered confessing with panting breaths, after all the dancing he’d done with Yuuri. Yuuri himself seemed unperturbed and the only signs that he’d done rigorous dance moves were the visible shine of sweat on his skin and disheveled hair. Everyone else had either return to their homes or rooms or asleep on the floor.

(Victor didn’t remember ever meeting someone with stamina rivalling Yuuri.)

He wondered why. He never liked talking about his life in general and hated talking about his impending retirement even more. But, Yuuri had given him surprises he never thought he could feel anymore, moving his heart and filling his veins with adrenaline.

Giving Victor sense of dread and joy in the few hours he’d known him.

Maybe he hoped to hear something more than, ‘ _it’s about time_ ’. Like there’s nothing more for Victor to do than to drop dead and disappear to the oblivion.

Carmen saw her death in the cards and decided to resign to her fate.

That’s the story anyway.

She loved Don Jose, maybe. Maybe if only she hadn’t seen her impending tragic end, along with her love, she would have chosen him.

Victor had seen the cards dealt for him, but he had no second choice. Not like Carmen.

He didn’t feel like searching anyway, because even Carmen ended up dying despite her effort to move on.

“… I don’t remember you becoming so old,” Yuuri responded, miraculously understanding the allusion even though before that they’ve talked about so many heroines being the base of Victor’s routines that he’d lost count.

“Yuuri, I’m 27 now. It’s about time.”

“How should I know! Last I remember you had long hair and no wrinkles. Why do you think I didn’t recognize you?”

Yuuri was maybe a bit younger than Victor, most likely around Chris’s age. Victor made a mental note to look him up later, because most likely he’s also a skater. Maybe he stopped for college and just too busy or pained to continue following the sport.

Maybe that’s why he didn’t notice Victor cutting his hair almost five years prior. Or how he’d gotten close with Chris.

Or maybe a dancer? Certainly a kind of performer. Surely he’d done something until he could claim he was close to two of the best skaters in the world.

“Yuuri…!! How cruel, I have no wrinkles. My creams work just fine!”

Yuuri had laughed at that, muttering something in Japanese which was probably an insult. Just in case it was, Victor lightly elbowed him. Yuuri laughed harder.

“… I hope your shows will have live TV coverage then.”

“… what?”

“Your shows. Unlike competitions, there’s never live TV coverage. I always have to buy the recordings, which comes out only months afterwards.”

It’s really something outside of Victor’s wildest imagination. He’d expected Yuuri to be like Georgi, claiming that they _were_ getting old, or maybe like most of his fans, who begged him to not retire yet while crying like he’s dying or something. Instead, Yuuri instead commented on…

The lack of coverage on his shows?

“What are you talking about?”

Yuuri turned, until they’re face to face. In the now silent room, Victor’s heartbeat was loud.

“You’ll still skate, right? Even if you retire. You’ll have more and more shows, right? I’d be sad if I can’t see you skate again. Big fan, as I’ve said.”

Even though he’s saying things that was similar to Victor’s other fans, somehow...

No, not somehow. Victor understood in an instant, the difference between Yuuri and his other fans.

Yuuri really, really didn’t care about the medals.

He didn’t care even if Victor got gold or not, he just wanted to see him skating again, in any form. He’d gladly come and see Victor skate, even if there’s already another five-time World champion.

Yuuri most likely didn’t know too, that Victor was a regular in podium, always placing first since five years ago. The routines they talked about were all of Victor’s early programs, when he was still a newcomer and so not a sure win in competitions.

He might not be as big of a fan as he claimed, but still…

“There won’t be any offer if I retire, Yuuri.”

Yuuri stared at him with one eyebrow raised, obviously questioning Victor’s train of thoughts until it could get to that depressing (Victor knew) idea. It’s like he was all but saying it out loud that Victor was an idiot.

(But was he…?)

“Well, I know two who’d offer you to perform in their shows, so ask me whenever you’re free. I’ll ask around.”

“… just two?”

“I’m just an innkeeper’s son from rural Japanese town, what do you expect? You’re lucky I even know those two.”

No, that’s a lie. At least, an overt underestimation of himself.

He’s more than that, he had to be. Someone so bright and wonderful like he belonged under the spotlight. Surely later Chris would confirm that suspicion. Victor would have wiki-ed him that very instant if only he knew Yuuri’s full name and had his phone on hand.

“I thought you’re the kind of person who plans your own show, while sponsors swarm in to beg you to pick them to pay for everything. What changed?”

“I’m retiring, Yuuri.”

“I’ve retired. Phichit-kun still comes to me anyway. It’ll be fine, promise. You’re… you can still skate. Nothing much will change.”

“…Yuuri, did you just stop yourself from calling me ‘young’?”

“Ah, I got found out.”

Victor couldn’t help jabbing Yuuri on his ribs, but Yuuri just laughed. Maybe he enjoyed teasing people and seeing their reactions. Phichit Chulanont was the kind of person who loved it so much he tended to save it for eternity in the internet, so if his close friend was the same Victor wouldn’t be surprised.

“Hahaha, why are you mad? I didn’t say it, right? Besides, even after you’re old and can’t skate again, I’m sure there will be many who will beg you to make routines for them. Or even teach them how to skate. Then, technically, I’ll be able to see your skating forever.”

A memory came to him, of a stubborn young boy demanding Victor to make a routine in exchange of him holding back on his quads until he’s in Senior.

It’s true.

It’s true and Victor never realized.

Even if he retired, that didn’t mean he had to stop skating. People who really supported him wouldn’t just forget him just because he couldn’t medal anymore. Like Phichit who still come to Yuuri, and everyone who loved Yuuri even though as he said, he’d retired from skating. It’s so obvious and yet…

“… you think I can…?”

“If only I could still skate. I’d ask you, definitely. Be my coach! Something like that, maybe? I’ve always wanted to skate with you.”

A hint of sadness in Yuuri’s smile now. But, it’s probably just because he was a skater, as he just confirmed, and he envied those who could still dance on the ice.

Victor found himself thinking that he would not mind coaching Yuuri if he could still skate.

“Let’s skate. Together.”

It’s not like he had anything particularly planned, and suddenly he felt inspired. Yeah, Victor could imagine a song of seduction in his mind already. Similar to the song he didn’t feel confident enough to bring to life, about a free-spirited and independent dancer seducing everyone who saw them.

Of Carmen-like character dancing like Yuuri did.

Victor found himself wanting to show his everyone that dance he thought up.

Amazing, and to think that just few hours before he’d wanted to just use his old programs as a ‘fuck you’ gesture to the lot of them.

“… I’d like that.”

It’s like when Victor offered a commemorative photo together. Yuuri said that, and yet he didn’t seem happy about it. He didn’t outright start sobbing like in the baths, but Victor could tell with the way his brows scrunched up. Victor couldn’t help tracing them, smoothing the tense muscles behind the lopsided glasses there, and asked.

“What happened? Why did you stop?”

“I can’t remember,” was the only answer Yuuri could give.

Victor didn’t dare pressing him, not when he seemed so sad. Not when Yuuri retreated to himself again and ran away by suggesting to return to their rooms.

That’s a sore spot, apparently. Victor could understand, as he was worrying over the same thing.

But, at least, there’s something he could do.

Yuuri didn’t seem to be troubled much with his body, if the way he moved was indication. Even if he retired due to injury, surely it had healed already. Surely it’ll be fine if he didn’t stress himself out with jumps.

Chris said there’s an ice rink nearby.

As thanks for saying the obvious and making Victor’s future seemingly less bleak, he thought of asking Yuuri to skate together.

Maybe with Phichit too. If people from yesterday’s party, the ones Yuuri claimed as his family and friends, wanted to join he wouldn’t mind too. They accepted him, even though Victor was a complete stranger. The least he could do was to return the favor.

Chris had apparently arrived home and was spoiling his cat with treats he bought in Japan, if his Instagram picture was any indication. Victor sent him a selfie of himself and Makkachin and told him ‘welcome back’ as per usual niceties. Victor also told him about how lovely the inn really was, just as Chris had said and it’s been less than a day but Victor (really) felt refreshed already.

Yes, because Yuuri managed to ease his worries about retirement.

There was no reply, perhaps he’s still resting. Not surprising in the least.

Finally, he sent out the question he’d been meaning to ask since the day before.

> **v-nikiforov** chris do you know yuuri?

Yuuri.

Despite what Victor had heard from the person himself the day before, admittedly, Victor knew nothing of him yet. Still, it’s an undeniable fact that he intrigued Victor. Charmed was a word that could be used too. He's just almost too good to be true.

It’s almost like the story.

Siegfried was worried of his future, of the inevitable as told countless times by his surroundings. When his friend suggested a distraction, he met a beautiful enchanted maiden.

Aah, what a magical encounter.

Victor didn’t believe in love at first sight, but he believed that there’s a thing called ‘lesser evil’.

Just like to Siegfried who met Odette and thought, ‘Ah, my future wouldn’t be too bad if it’s with her’.

It’s not like the certain future would change. But, at least, he found someone who could make it more bearable. More interesting and adventurous. Just like a kid imprinting on fellow new student on first day of school and decided that they’d do whatever it takes to be that person’s best friend.

It’s like that.

If love came to be along the way, it’s something that’s totally unrelated.

Yes, what he’s feeling was curiosity, and the desire to uncover the mystery that was Yuuri.

Even if what excited him more was the fake, even if that fact couldn’t be ignored.

If Siegfried hadn’t met Odette, he wouldn’t be so easily entranced with Odile.

Victor grew up watching performances though, and in most cases, Odette and Odile were played by the same person. That’s why, he could think some weird things, remnants of thoughts from when he was too young to follow the story.

For example, the thought that Odette and Odile being the same person.

Just like Siegfried.

That said, Victor had seen the story, had known the ending. He knew that the person dancing and talking with him during the banquet was not really Yuuri.

No, maybe it really was Yuuri.

It’s just not a side he could easily show, specially not to strangers.

No matter how highly he thought of Victor, to Yuuri, he’s a stranger. Even if he was to see Yuuri again, most likely the one he’d met would be the one with plenty nervous ticks, who couldn’t even meet his eyes. But, it’s alright. That version of Yuuri was charming enough, and it’s not like he had any expectation on Yuuri.

He just wanted to fulfil his promise. Yep. It just felt right to want to show Yuuri his first version of dances for the season, since he’s the one who roused Victor’s inspiration for it.

Yep, it’s just a gesture of gratitude and appreciation.

“Okay, let’s go find Yuuri, Makkachin. I need your opinion on him too.”

Makkachin barked as if in agreement.

In the end though, because of the inn’s rule to not bring Makkachin to the dining area, Victor dejectedly decided to abort his mission. Besides, Yuuri was not there. Understandable, since he’s not a guest and there should be an area in the inn limited only for the owner’s family.

Phichit, however, was.

Surprisingly.

Despite Yuuri claiming that he’s like family, there he was, lounging in one corner while messing with his phone as per usual with him. Maybe he’s waiting for Yuuri before going on somewhere. Surely they’d made plans. Yuuri did sound like he had, with the way he took Phichit to the baths at night and took him to join the party at night.

(Just as Yuuri said that he’d made plans on what to say with Victor.)

Well, Victor was not vain enough to want to ruin their plans. And Phichit seemed unusually solemn enough, like he was frustrated of something. Maybe Yuuri was late due to the strain from the party catching up to him. Maybe there’s an urgent matter from his coach or family. Better to leave him be for the moment, Victor thought.

Hiroko was cooking in the kitchen, seemingly unaffected by yesterday’s party. She greeted Victor cheerfully, like always. A woman with dyed hair and piercings visibly washing dishes next to her, visibly watching him with a frown. Victor refused Hiroko’s offer of breakfast, opting to go walk Makkachin and get whatever attracted him on the way, but he did accept her offer of katsudon for lunch with a thumb up.

He went to the Hasetsu Castle, following the route provided by the oh-so-omniscient Google Maps.

He passed the beach, devoid of visitors in the still cold spring air. He passed numerous souvenir shops, filled with weird and amusing things from figurines to preserved fish which seemed to be local delicacy and also tacky clothing. There’s a giant monster statue which made Victor stop and laugh until he shed tears.

Hasetsu Castle was a remarkable sight which topped everything else Hasetsu had to offer.

Pink flowers were blooming and scattering in the wind, and if Victor didn’t know better he’d thought sakura season had come early in Kyushu. No, he remembered Yuuri mentioning this yesterday, about plum blossom blooming earlier than sakura. Not that Victor could tell the difference.

His rinkmates would love Hasetsu, Victor thought. Mila and Yuri specially.

There were people under the trees, though not many. Not enough to give impression of crowded park. Just families holding picnic, and there’s not even music. It’s as if they’re just satisfied by enjoying the serenity of the moment, lying around, and snacking on top of comfortable blanket under the plum trees.

Victor agreed.                                                   

The contrast was rather nice. It’s not that yesterday’s party was not fun, it really was, but just relaxing like those families at the moment wouldn’t be so bad either.

Somehow, he ended up trying to imagine Yuuri in the afternoon, before the party.

Of him being in this park, just relaxing and enjoying lunch with his friends and families. To let himself relax and forget everything, including Victor’s arrival which he claimed to be excited about before.

Maybe he’d hum something too, if Victor was to come early and met him here on this park. Surely they’d chat about skating too.

Not from Carmen maybe.

Maybe Tchaikovsky’s tune, though Victor didn’t quite like the operas. From the ballet, maybe. The orchestras weren’t bad either. Romeo and Juliet, for example.

Surely, he’d assure Victor too. He’d say that Victor wouldn’t be nothing even if he couldn’t skate again. Yuuri didn’t seem that drunk when they talked anyway. It’s not just the alcohol talking.

(Maybe. Well, most likely.)

It’s inspiring another tune entirely, similar in context and yet completely different. If Carmen’s song was of seduction, of capturing the heart of everyone who laid eyes on her…

Then, maybe this tune would be like an apology, or expression of gratitude. Like saying, thank you for going along with me despite all of my forthcoming, and I’m sorry I have to leave now.

Thank you for still going along with me still.

I’m sorry for worrying you.

For the fans who would still support him, who would still want to see him again even after he stopped skating. For the fans who would still look up to him even after he couldn’t do it anymore. For fans like Yuuri.

All of his programs were about ‘love’, as Yuuri said. Victor had never been literal about it though. Maybe he could really use the theme ‘love’ next season.

Victor made a mental note to send another email to his composer, about making another song similar to the first for Free. A serene one instead of passionate this time. The contrast would be nice, Victor thought.

Passionate song of his youth, in his attempt of seducing all who saw him, and finished by serene song reflective of the present him, relaying message of gratitude and regret.

Yakov would surely approve.

(Not that Victor had ever been refused since he entered Senior)

Satisfied with his walk and strike of inspiration for another routine, he returned back to the inn after he made sure Makkachin had done her business and given up on chasing a squirrel up the plum tree. Despite him only walking leisurely and the cold air, Victor found himself sweating quite a bit.

Dipping on the hotspring sounded good before lunch. The woman from before offered to take care of Makkachin meanwhile. She patted her head and cooed. Everyone was so accommodating and nice, really.

There were few men in the baths, all older than Victor, but maybe because it’s already close to lunch time, Victor could probably count them with one hand. They smiled warmly and greeted him with a nod. It’s like the vendors, Victor thought. Sometimes people would feel reluctant to speak to people who spoke another language which they only understood little bit. Victor himself was the same, admittedly.

Everyone responded warmly when Victor greeted with ‘ _konnichiwa’_ though.

They were all, at heart, kind and warm people.

“For Yuuri?”, one of them asked out of the blue.

Maybe he meant to ask if Victor came to see Yuuri, like Phichit did. Victor shook his head and replied with, “Vacation. Hasetsu amazing,” with a thumb up. The old man ooh-ed and raised his own thumb in turn.

The mention of Yuuri’s name made Victor curious. Just how many people had come for the sole purpose to visit Yuuri, enough for that to be the first reason they asked a random foreigner who stayed in the only inn in the resort town?

Just who exactly was Yuuri?

As expected, he got curious. Also, somehow proud for most likely correct in the assumption that Yuuri was constantly underestimating himself. He had to be someone important if he’s presumably the reason most tourists even visit the town.

He wondered if something would come up if he looked him up, even if he’s not sure of his last name.

They did say that the inn was owned by the Katsuki family, so…

Yuuri Katsuki.

“… somehow… that’s…”

A bit familiar sounding.

As if he had heard of it before.

The question from the day before resurfaced again, filling his mind with what was undoubtedly dread.

Had he met Yuuri before? He was a skater, he knew Chris and Phichit. It wouldn’t be surprising if he had been in one of the competitions Victor attended. But…

Nothing came up no matter how hard he tried to remember.

Well, as it’s most likely Yuuri retired more than five years ago, it’s not as if Victor could be blamed for forgetting even if they had met before. Five years was a long time. It’s normal to forget. It’s just natural. It’s not as if Chris had mentioned him before either.

Victor tried to reason with himself, but still he dreaded.

If that’s the reason Yuuri cried the day before, if Victor forgetting that they in fact had skated together before was what made him sad, then Victor would like to be reminded as soon as possible. It’d be unfair for Yuuri otherwise, after the things he’d given him.

Reminder, assurance, inspiration…

Victor hurried out of the bath and dressed quickly. The anxiety was almost unbearable.

Fate was a fickle thing.

Victor bumped into Yuuri on the way out of the dressing area, made him stumble until his back hit the wall. Yuuri was not better, he ended up falling on his butt on the floor.

“I am so sorry. Are you alright?”

“… yes. Yes, I am fine.”

Victor rushed to help him stand, but didn’t. Couldn’t. Tear stricken face met his and he couldn’t move. Even though Yuuri was obviously putting effort in smiling, it didn’t reach his eyes at all. They’re swollen and puffy, and Victor wondered once more if it’s his fault.

Yuuri stood up on his own.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t see where I was going.”

“Don’t worry. It’s my fault too.”

It’s rather awkward. And scary, to be honest. Even if he’s not actively crying at the moment, it’s quite obvious that he’d just stopped very recently and Victor was as scared as he would be if he was in a landmine.

He’s just not used to crying people. He didn’t know what to do, or to say to Yuuri.

In the end, he settled with, “we’re even then”.

Thankfully, Yuuri chuckled and agreed with him. Told him that he’s glad for it as he fixed the position of his glasses.

Victor was about to breathe a sigh of relief when Yuuri’s next words chilled him to the bone.

“You look familiar. Have we met before?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story Carmen is about a gypsy woman catching the eye of a soldier named Don Jose. At one point she tried to break up with him and moved on to be with a matador Escamillo, but Don Jose killed her in a fit of rage. It's been made into opera and habanero called _L'amour est un oiseau rebelle_ was one of the songs Carmen sung in the performance.


	4. Chapter 4

Since the beginning, it’s been a chain of surprises.

* * *

Fate was a fickle cruel thing.

The déjà vu was one of the scariest feeling Victor had ever had.

It felt just like a blow to the gut. There’s pain, nausea, and other indescribable unpleasant feelings.

‘ _Is he serious?_ ’

It’s a sick joke, if it was. But Yuuri joked around, right? He could be a meanie when he wanted to be. Victor had lost count on how many times he called Victor old during the party. Surely Yuuri knew of Victor’s sore spots by then, just as Victor knew that Yuuri was extremely forgetful.

But… no, even if Yuuri wasn’t above teasing Victor, he never used his lack of recognition before. Moreover, not recognizing Victor bothered him so much that he practically apologized twice. Victor couldn’t believe that that Yuuri would be able to joke about that particular thing.

That’s why, it couldn’t be a joke.

Yuuri’s puffy eyes, his smile… it’s so familiar and sickening. There was static in Victor’s ears, louder than the chatter from nearby dining room. The world blurred in his vision, Yuuri at the center of it all.

Yuuri forgot.

Again. Somehow. For some reason that wasn’t a joke.

Yuuri looked up to him, obviously expecting an answer and Victor rack his brain trying to find a way so that Yuuri wouldn’t cry again like the day before. Victor felt like throwing up. It’s just too much.

Logically, there’s that thing Victor had so often heard about. Blackout drunk, if he’s not mistaken. Perhaps it’s his Russian blood, Victor had never experienced it though. But, Yuuri…

He forgot…? Even that meeting in the baths…?

Was that how ‘blackout drunk’ was supposed to work?

“… I’m-“

_‘BANG! BANG! Into the roof! I know you want it!’_

_‘Wait a minute, let me get you there.’_

Yuuri recoiled in surprise of the sudden music blaring from Victor’s phone.

Chris. Thank God.

“I’m sorry, I have to take this. Excuse me.”

Victor rushed to his room, wanting nothing more than to hug Makkachin and breathe through her fur, Yuuri visibly bowing slightly with confused smile when Victor looked back. Disappointment grew when he remembered that she was with one of the Katsukis and Victor was honestly too anxious to talk to them.

He answered Chris when he was sure there’s no one, specially no innkeepers, around to hear his conversation.

_ “Victor, mon cher. How’s vacation?” _

“You have no idea how glad I am you called, Chris. My savior.”

_ “Did something happen?” _

“Let’s just say I was in a sticky situation with a fan.”

_ “Okay. If you say so.” _

 “… so, what’s going on? Are you alright?”

_ “You asked about Yuuri.” _

“I didn’t realize he’s a topic that warrant direct call. Specially in… five in the morning? What time is it there?”

The tea pot from last night was still there. Victor used the electric kettle to make some water and prepared the tea on the pot. Curiously, on the table were also few small cups of jam. Victor was not one to refuse good fortune when he got them.

_ “A bit of jetlag on my part and it is a bit delicate subject. Did you meet him? How is he doing now?” _

“He’s… Yuuri is fine, I guess.”                                             

Relatively speaking. Maybe. Victor didn’t know. Couldn’t know. He just met Yuuri the day before and for all he knew he’s all fine and dandy enjoying his day with Phichit until he met Victor. In which afterwards he’s prone to tears.

Fuck, what was it really… it’s just the worst kind of torture. To be the most probably cause of the thing he hated the most…

“Chulanont is here.”

_ “I know. Phichit told me about that. Didn’t think he’d go right after Worlds, though.” _

“The lot of you said the same thing about me.”

_ “Hey, to his credit, his coach actually knows he’s going. I think I saw Ciao Ciao getting something for Yuuri too. Tokyo Banana, I think?” _

“… even his coach, huh.”

_ “Hmhmm.” _

Victor was not surprised. He’d expected it. Even so, he couldn’t help but to feel impressed.

Just in case, he decided to check one possibility he’s fearing. That was of Yuuri actually being super famous that only Victor Nikiforov didn’t know who he was because Victor Nikiforov was very much like frog in the well that was figure skating.

> **v-nikiforov** hey yuri do you know yuuri katsuki?
> 
> **v-nikiforov** or… however they write his name
> 
> **v-nikiforov** suddenly I’m not sure
> 
> **v-nikiforov** yuri? they kind of elongate the yu though

Yuri Plisetsky was even more of a frog in Victor’s opinion. He’s fourteen and homeschooled. It’s probably why he had zero social skill. There’s no way Yuri would know about Yuuri. It’s not like Victor was the worst kind of cad who didn’t know his competitor or something.

Yuuri wasn’t a competitor. Even if he was, it’s been five years minimum since he retired. It’s normal to not remember. Just as it’s normal for Yuuri to only pay attention to his friends and thus forget about Victor.

It’s not that weird. It’s natural. It’s normal.

And yet, Victor couldn’t bring himself to believe it. Couldn’t make himself stop caring and dam the curiosity overflowing from within him.

How could he? When Yuuri Katsuki had become his muse? To be forgotten by said muse was such a heavy blow to him, even more than not recognized by a supposed fan he didn’t know.

“… who is he?”

_ “Well, what do you know about him?” _

Chris asked back, as if testing. As if contemplating on what he could or should say.

Delicate subject. He’s asking because Yuuri Katsuki was not someone that could be easily explained. A sensitive and sore subject, an enigma that came to be what he was because…

Chris had said that Yuuri probably wouldn’t be happy to see him.

The theories that came to Victor’s mind as to why were all, admittedly, nauseating to put to words.

“… Yuuri… he’s a retired skater. He dances too, ballet, flamenco, tango, and maybe many other styles. And…”

Victor faltered. The only thing that stood out with Yuuri for some reason refused to come out from his lips. With how many times Yuuri mentioned it, it should be his trademark. He’s not the type who would break out dancing easily, not without alcohol. Chris should know a lot of other skaters, retired or not, just as Victor because they were skaters themselves.

“He can’t remember.”

Victor said and begun to question himself. Wondered if he misunderstood Yuuri’s confession. What if it’s not that he couldn’t remember why he had to retire, but instead…

Did he have to retire… because he couldn’t remember?

_ “Ah, yes. You know enough. That’s him.” _

“Chris, you have to give me more than that.”

_ “What more do you want to know? You pretty much nailed everything.” _

“Chris, please. He didn’t recognize me. Twice, at that. I need to know.”

_ “Hm, so you are taking the brunt of it too. Well, it can’t be helped, you have changed a lot in the past five years. Did he promise you something? If he did, can you just let it slide?” _

”… brunt? What… what do you mean? What are you talking about?”

_ “He called me actually. I felt like I had to call you because of that, since you asked about him. I guess my hunch was unfortunately correct.” _

“He called you?”

_ “Well, it happens from time to time. Sometimes he needs to talk to me, though most of the time his family can calm him down during his episode. This time, he needed to talk to me, that’s all.” _

“Chris, I can’t understand what you’re talking about. Episode…? What do you mean?”

The dread filled his veins with adrenaline again, and the effect was instantaneous. His heartbeat fastened, and the quick _thump thump_ loud in his ears. Victor tried to counter that by gulping his tea, but it didn’t help. In fact, he was sure it’s getting worse.

If he could go and ask Yuri then he could certainly go look Yuuri up while speaking with Chris, that’s what he’d thought.

If only he could bring himself to press enter.

_ “Do you know Dory from Finding Nemo? That blue fish that's becoming main in the sequel.” _

“… what?”

_ “Shame on you, Victor. Ellen voiced that fish. And you said you’re a fan. I guess, princesses aside, cartoon just isn’t your taste, then? Or is musicality the deal breaker? I know you watched Lion King at least. Is it because it’s based on Macbeth? The second is definitely Romeo and Juliet.” _

“Chris.”

_ “50 First Dates… no, it’s not the same. How about thriller movies? Rather old, but Memento was quite famous in the 2000s. Have you watched it? I know Phichit mentioned Japanese animation with same theme, but you definitely haven’t watched those.” _

“Christopher Nolan’s? That thing about amnesiac serial killer?”

_ “Yes, yes, that’s the one. Yuuri is exactly like the main character. Though not as severe.” _

“… he’s not a serial killer, is he?”

_ “Victor, please. I’d hit you if I could.” _

Memento.

A guy got hit in the head which damaged his brain. He became unable to remember things for more than fifteen minutes, often less. He decided to get revenge on the death of his wife with help from notes, tattoos, and photos as constant reminder. In the end, it’s revealed that he’d been fooling himself to give himself purpose in life, even with his condition. He always erased evidence of completed ‘revenge’ to repeat the cycle forevermore.

Victor watched it quite recently. Mila was for some reason interested in it, and so was Yuri. Georgi had wept about foolishness of a lost lover or something along the line of that.

He couldn’t easily connect Yuuri with Memento’s main character, not with his shy smile, teasing jab and kind words.

Yuuri did mention having notes as reminder, that was undeniable.

So many notes that he couldn’t keep up anymore.

_ “In Yuuri’s case, it’s not fifteen minutes. It’s about half a day. That’s why he can still function well enough and help out his family’s inn, though he had to retire and quit his studies. Point is, take no offense if he happens to forget you.” _

“Half a day… You mean…”

_ “Whatever happens to him will be forgotten after about twelve hours.”  _

Victor thought back to the times he first saw Yuuri.

It was late in the bath.

When did the party end? How much had Yuuri forgotten now that it’s noon the next day?

_ “Of course, there’s no telling when human brain is involved. Think of it like he’s in constant state of blackout drunkenness, but without the fun part. Sometimes, he forgets everything and gets disoriented. If it’s the case, he’d call me.” _

“Disoriented. That’s what you mean with his episodes.”

Victor felt faint just by hearing it. The word ‘ _everything’_ felt like echoing in his ears.

How much was _everything_?

Did it even matter though? Victor had been hesitating in meeting Yuuri, worrying over upsetting him. Even if Yuuri didn’t lose all his memories, even if his episode didn’t happen, at the rate Victor was going there’s no way Yuuri would be able to remember him on their next meeting.

_ “It can’t be helped. He got that condition after an accident five years ago in America. Waking up in his childhood bed must be terrifying when in his head he should be on the other side of the world.” _

Five years.

He’d been like that for five years…? Victor couldn’t imagine waking up and forgetting that he couldn’t skate anymore. Couldn’t imagine waking up in strange place and be told that he couldn’t do what he used to anymore even though he couldn’t feel anything wrong. Couldn’t imagine having to go through with it repeatedly forevermore.

Victor been having a hard time making decision about retirement in his own term, not realizing he was one of the luckiest athletes. He couldn’t imagine forced retirement, not like Yuuri’s case. Couldn’t imagine going through it again and again.

That’s why Yuuri was crying.

Because he’s reliving his retirement all over again. It’s worse than having to retire due to college or leg injury. Whatever it was which caused it affected Yuuri’s brain, and sometimes he would wake up and not even know about it. Needed to be reminded of it and his ruined future.

“… what happened? How did he… Why are you the one he calls?“

Chris didn’t answer. Victor could hear him sighing, followed by a cat’s purring. Victor could imagine Chris sitting on his bed petting his pretty angora. Maybe he’s having wine too. Victor was sure he himself was in the mood of something strong after the conversation.

“ _I’m sorry, Victor. It’s not my story to tell_ ,” was his response in the end, and the line was cut with a deafening click.

* * *

The woman with dyed hair and piercings was Mari. Her eyes were squinty, and somehow felt a bit condescending. Still, Victor could see traces of Hiroko in her, even though she didn’t have Hiroko’s smile. She must be Yuuri’s sister.

She brought Victor’s ordered katsudon to his room, perhaps because Hiroko asked her to, along with Makkachin. When Victor opened the door for her though she just took one look at Victor and sighed.

“I’ll keep this in the fridge. Call when you’re in the mood to eat something. I’ll see if we still have beer.”

She’s an angel, really. It took her less than five minutes to return with a bottle of beer. She knocked twice before entering, not bothering to wait Victor to open for her, and just placed the bottle and glass on the low table, seemingly uncaring to Victor who was holding Makkachin like life-line.

He couldn’t help to after reading about Yuuri. The potential he had, the loss he had to endure.

> **yuri-plisetsky** if I have to hear that name one more time im gonna kill somebody

Ah, turns out Victor really was the worst kind of cad.

Losing justification, Victor looked Yuuri Katsuki up with trembling fingers.

Not surprisingly, he had a wiki page. Not much was written there, of course not. He was young and younger still when he retired. They listed the seasons he had, his accomplishments since Novice until his last year in Junior. In the end it’s written that he suffered head injury during an outing with friends, and not long after that his retirement was announced.

(Victor didn’t think much about the lack of detail)

He’s still the holder of World record for Junior, could you imagine? Five years and still unbreakable. People must had mentioned him a lot when he broke Victor’s record, and since Yuri Plisetsky’s pledge was to finish his Junior with a bang, more must had praised him for his Grand Slam and expressed disappointment that he couldn’t beat Yuuri’s record.

That’s why he sounded familiar.

(That’s why it felt even more terrible)

“… thank you.”

“Cigarette?”

“Thank you, but I don’t smoke.”

“Hmm. Good for you.”

Then, she handed Victor a pamphlet.

Victor saw Hasetsu map on one side, with its attractions highlighted. He noticed after he confusedly took it that the ice rink, Ice Castle, had been circled in red.

“There. We have an ice rink in town. Small, but good. Family friends own it. I don’t get it, but for some reason people want to skate after seeing Yuuri.”

Victor knew. It was one of the thing which attracted him when Chris described the resort town, since he was considering not returning to Russia until close to the start of next season. Reporters usually came to see his preparation and Victor would like to avoid them if he could help it. He wanted a rink to help convince Yakov that he’s not slacking in practice.

“… they do, huh?”

“Specially skaters. Chris, Phichit, Minami… I’ve lost count. Aren’t you the same?”

Victor couldn’t deny that.

After hearing Chris’s explanation, after seeing Yuuri’s list of accomplishments, after seeing videos of Yuuri’s programs, Victor found himself wanting to see Yuuri skates in person. Not just to thank him, but because he was genuinely curious.

A skater who had the potential to beat Victor.

A skater who _had_ beaten Victor.

Honestly, Yuuri Katsuki was the first in a very long time despite him being a retired skater already.

Victor wondered if he would still feel like he was feeling, tired of winning and frustrated for not being able to surprise anyone anymore, if only Yuuri Katsuki was still competing.

That first meeting in the bath, the dances in the party, the talk afterwards… Ah, also another meeting in the bath. Each time, each time, it’s always a surprise. Tugging his heart, made him nervous and excited even though he could feel nothing during major competitions.

Yuuri Katsuki made him feel alive again.

That's why, despite his condition, it's really a blessing to be able to meet him.

That’s why he found himself an hour later walking to the rink, Makkachin once again put under Mari’s care.

Because he’s feeling terrible, because being in the room the whole day felt even more terrible.

Victor didn’t think he would skate so soon, not when he came to Hasetsu to avoid it. He always preferred to draw as many inspirations as he could anyway, in the early stage of choreographing. Watch operas, go to fashion shows, read novels…

(Also have dates. At least, he used to, when he was younger. Victor hadn’t had dates in years)

He didn’t think he would even _want_ to skate, at least other than to thank Yuuri for his kind words in the party, for the inspiration he gave Victor.

Usually, Victor would wait until the song was finished to start planning the specifics for his dance, but he couldn’t help it. Not with the ever-growing stories inside him. Victor hummed to a melody only he could hear, breaking into a jog then sprint to get as quickly as possible to the rink.

What if…

What if Carmen didn’t pick anyone to love? What if Odile failed to seduce Siegfried? What if Lilac Fairy cursed Aurora instead? What if Odette didn’t even remember Siegfried?

Love becoming uncertain, nonexistent. Life went on in each of their misery, and still they lived. Not happily ever after, but then again, whoever did?

Carmen died with blade through her heart. Odette died with Siegfried, some say he even killed her himself.

Happy end was just fabrication, a tool to make children remain hopeful even when they’re dying in nightmare that was real life.

Still, Carmen danced with all the life she had. That was indisputable.

Without love, she’d grow old, and still unrestrained by anyone, she’d dance. And of course, Don Jose and Escamillo and everyone else would fall for her. Admire her. Fear her.

Love or no love, she would dance.

In a story with no love, she would live.

When not skating, two L-words came to mind.

Life and Love.

Then, let’s dedicate the first song to those who died. Victor was marching towards his own death anyhow. Let’s show them the seductive dance of the dying, fated to die by the hand of their loved ones, just like Carmen.

A story of a fool who lost their life doing what they loved.

Black costume would be appropriate, to further emphasis the theme. Maybe with red accent. Maroon, like blood. Formal like, like those worn in funerals.

Surprisingly, the rink was closed when Victor arrived.

It was just after 3PM. The pamphlet said that Ice Castle opened until 7PM, and yet, the sign said CLOSED in bold red letter. Disappointed, frustrated, he couldn’t help lightly punching the door, and was surprised to find it wasn’t locked, the door creaked and gave as he pushed.

Maybe if he asked nicely they would let him skate. Maybe if he bribed the worker they wouldn’t mind.

Surely they wouldn’t mind.

Surely, surely.

Faint sound of music could be heard when Victor opened the door. Someone was humming a familiar tune from a story which was dear to Victor, a princess story from his own country.

_“Far away, long ago.”_

_“Glowing dim as an ember.”_

_“Things my heart used to know.”_

_“Things it yearns to remember.”_

Anastasia danced following the ghosts from her past.

Uncertain, awkward, and still she reached out to them. Happily, foolishly, went along with them.

One night, everything was taken away from her. Her name, her identity, her memories. And still she followed through her heart until she finally found them all again.

What could it be that Yuuri Katsuki think about as he did figure of eight repeatedly while humming the lullaby?

What could the smile he wore mean?

There’s no particular dance, Yuuri was just making figure of eight with his skates. There’s no accompaniment but his soft humming voice. And yet it’s the most painful program Victor had ever watched. It felt so raw, powerful in melancholy. A song of frustration becoming to that of resigned acceptance just like that.

No one knew why Monalisa smiled. That’s why she’s beautiful, enchanting.

Victor didn’t know and so Yuuri Katsuki was beautiful.

He clapped.

Yuuri’s closed eyes snapped open and he squealed faintly, stopping his sliding so abruptly Victor almost reached out to catch him in case he fell headfirst to the ice. He didn’t, and when he looked up to Victor his face was already pinkish in hue.

“Uhm… ah… ahaha… I didn’t realize there’s someone here…”

“Yes, the sign said closed but it wasn’t locked? And my pamphlet said it should be open until later, so I went in anyway. Did you reserve this place?”

“No. The ice is just finished smoothing. They closed the place during smoothing and… I guess they forget to flip the sign.”

Victor flipped the sign just as Yuuri reached the guard rail.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

There’s no one else on the rink. Victor wondered if the unflipped sign was no accident. There’s no one in the rink beside the two of them. Maybe the staffs decided to give Yuuri some alone skating time. Maybe it’s the agreed way of calming him down after his episodes as Chris mentioned his family and friends could manage most of the time.

Mari did say that the owners were family friends.

“Uhm… I… I’ve seen you before… have I? Before earlier in the bath I mean. I’m so sorry about that, once again.”

“It’s alright, Yuuri. Also, yes, you have seen me before. I joined yesterday’s flower viewing party too.”

“Ah! I see. So that’s why you seem familiar.”

Yuuri seemed to be satisfied with the explanation. He nodded happily as he wiped his sweat with small towel. Knowing his condition enabled Victor to make a more educated guess on his line of thought.

He felt Victor was familiar because Victor in his mind was still 22 years old with long hair. Five years was a long time, and he couldn’t connect easily the youthful androgynous image with the man he was seeing.

‘I’ve seen this man on the party yesterday’ was probably taken as ‘despite my condition, I can still recognize faces I should have forgotten’.

Victor didn’t have the heart to correct him yet. Not after Yuuri just calmed down and seemingly content.

“I thought you’d be with your friend, Phichit. Haven’t you made plans?”

“Hm… something came up… so we canceled.”

A sore spot. Yuuri’s hand came up to rub his bicep, that’s his nervous tick. The something he mentioned could be his episode. Victor forced himself to smile through it and feigned obliviousness.

“I see. That’s too bad.”

“… yes.”

“I’m glad I could see you here though.”

Yuuri glanced at him, seemingly confused. His hand was still rubbing his bicep.

“Yuuri Katsuki, current record holder for combined score in Junior Worlds. It’s an honor to see you skate in person, truly.”

Yuuri’s face turned few shades redder and he looked away, laughing sheepishly. He was obviously shifting his weight, another of his tick, Victor observed.

“O… oh, god. I didn’t expect… Uhm… I’m not that… good… I mean, it was just… besides, I’m… that was-”

How he would love to make a list of it, to know more of this adorable man. To preserve this pleased look on his face, which embarrassment couldn’t completely hide.

“May I take a photo? For commemoration.”

A request from a fan, Victor thought. Because after all the videos and life performance he’d watched, Victor Nikiforov had undeniably become Yuuri Katsuki’s fan. To be on this end of things was very nostalgic. The anticipation and nervousness was really really nostalgic.

“I’d like that.”

Victor’s heart throbbed, almost painfully. But, even with the familiar answer, Yuuri’s smile seemed genuine and not sad for once, and the sight filled Victor’s vein with warmth. It felt like giddiness after drinking satisfactory wine, and finally Victor realized.

He was happy.


	5. Chapter 5

Yuuri Katsuki was not a photogenic person.

He had no sense of good side, somehow arranging the camera until he seemed chubbier than he really was. Unlike his friend Phichit, he didn’t strike out particular pose or anything, he just tried his best to smile the widest he could, until it became clear how much he was forcing himself.

Yuuri scrunched his brows a bit after the photos were taken, obviously displeased at the result, but he didn’t say anything and just leave it at that.

Perhaps it’s better put to say that he didn’t like having his picture taken.

Victor knew of skaters like him. Otabek Altin from Kazakhstan confessed that he’s not used to taking pictures. He said he preferred to do activities uninterrupted during outings instead of documenting them, thus preferred to have someone else hold the camera and take candid pictures of him if necessary. For the same reason he usually didn’t have any to share, and thus his social accounts became pretty much abandoned.

Speaking of which, Yuri Plisetsky was pretty much the same. Though he still liked to share things that interest him. That’s why his Instagram was dominated with cat pictures. The rare selfies were of him showing off questionable tiger printed fashion choices.

So, it’s not like Yuuri was the first person to be like that around Victor. Yuuri, and similarly Otabek and Yuri Plisetsky, they were just not used to taking selfies, didn’t know how best to take them or how best to make the picture flattering, and more often than not preferred to left things as they were to get things done over with as quickly as possible.

It’s not like he didn’t understand the feeling. Although Victor liked taking selfies and documented his journeys, admittedly he more often than not found pleasing his fans to be tedious and tiring. Besides, from experience, Victor knew that people like Yuuri would very rarely ask others to take selfies with them.

That’s why Victor felt pleased and honored.

They took selfie twice. Once with Victor’s phone and once with Yuuri’s. He asked for it himself, as if he remembered his words from the day before that he’d like a selfie with Victor.

Victor knew better than to wish for that to be true, or even to give voice to that hope.

“You look like a skater I look up to,” Yuuri commented as he edited the picture on his own phone. Victor paused his own editing for a heartbeat, considering the best way to respond, before settling with a hum of acknowledgement.

“Is that so?”

“Yeah! You’re Russian, right? The accent is similar. He also has white hair, like you.”

“My hair is not white, Yuuri. White is for old people.”

“I’m sorry. Then, silver.”

It was platinum to be exact, but Victor didn’t correct him. It’s Yuuri. He liked to tease. If he responded to that, it’d just be the start of endless teasing, Victor just knew it.

From that playful smile, that’s just obvious.

As he looked down to his own phone to admire the selfie he just took with Victor, Yuuri Katsuki was smiling deviously.

Normally, Victor would worry over how Yuuri seemed as if he was absolutely certain he could kill him with words alone, but instead his attention was caught on the device in Yuuri’s hand.

It’s an old phone, Victor noticed. He himself used Apple, but the one Yuuri used was a model Victor didn’t think was still circulating. With the terrible reputation Apple had for the life-expectancy of their products, it’s impressive for Yuuri to still using it with no problem. Victor had had his for a bit more than a year and already looking forward for the new model to be released.

Then again, Yuuri couldn’t remember. In his mind, his phone was probably only few months old at best. He probably didn’t know that Steve Jobs was already six feet under.

His skates too. Even though it’s obviously worn.

Victor wondered when the last time they were sharpened. If the perfect balance Yuuri demonstrated was actually more impressive than it seemed.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I’m just wondering what model your phone is. The casing is very cute. I wonder if I can find similar one for mine.”

It’s not a lie. It’s really cute casing. It’s blue and there’s a cute picture of a poodle peeking in the back, with what Victor assumed were Japanese letters inside a speech bubble. The poodle seemed like puppy Makkachin, and Victor was once again reminded that Yuuri asked for a dog because he wanted to have a Makkachin too.

Victor wondered if Yuuri specifically looked that picture up himself. Or maybe it’s picture of his own dog.

“What, this? I got this in America. It’s really easy to find stores that sells custom made casings there.“

Definitely picture of his own dog. Only proud parent would seem that happy showing off pictures of their babies.

“How do you read that?”

“Oh, it’s _wan_. It’s just dog’s barking sound in Japanese.”

As if to make a point, Yuuri said it once more, one hand raised like a paw next to his pinkish cheeks. Victor didn’t tell him that that gesture was more like a beckoning cat than a dog.

So cute.

“… speaking of which, Yuu-chan really took a while. Oh, well. Do you want to skate? It’s not like I don’t know how to man the register.”

* * *

Yuuri Katsuki, in fact, didn’t know how to man the register.

Maybe he did know once in the past, but he didn’t know anymore. He turned pale at the sight of the computer, at the ever blinking timestamp on the corner. If Victor had to guess, Yuuri didn’t recognize the computer, let alone the program, and yet he still tried. He would probably manage to handle it, it seemed simple enough even for Victor who couldn’t understand Japanese, if only the program didn’t beep in warning and asked for a staff ID and password, which Yuuri clearly didn’t have.

“… apparently they changed things when I was in America. I’m sorry.”

From the copyrighted sign of the program, they definitely did not, but Victor didn’t comment on that and feigned obliviousness.

“That’s alright. I can wait.”                                                                                                                   

“I’ll call her. Uhm… aah, no signal…”

“Really, Yuuri. I don’t mind waiting.”

“No, no, this is terrible business practice. I know. I’ll jump.”

“I’m sorry?”

“I’ll just go to the back and get your skates. What’s your size?”

To get to the rental skates, one must enter through the staff room, which was obviously locked. Apparently Yuuri was willing to jump over the counter and get them for Victor despite the obviously placed camera.

Wow.

They’ve been talking for less than five minutes, with most time spent doing what Victor thought Yuuri didn’t like, and he’s ready to break the law for him. Of course, there were people like that, who could claim that they’d do anything for him, for Victor Nikiforov, but Yuuri couldn’t even recognize Victor.

So Yuuri Katsuki would break the law for a stranger, just so his friend doesn’t get bad reviews for their work performance.

The way he seemed so determined was adorable, and Victor wanted to laugh. Though he felt a bit exasperated, because he’s not used to the level of trust and helpfulness from a stranger who didn’t know who he was.

Maybe it’s culture shock.

Thankfully, Victor had his skates, so Yuuri didn’t have to valiantly break the law for a stranger.

(For now. Despite Victor admittedly wanting to see him do exactly that)

Victor didn’t understand the Japanese Yuuri exclaimed with audible sigh when he saw Victor’s skates peeking out from his bag, but from the tone Victor would guess it meant similarly to ‘thank God’.

“That’s good. Uhm, I’ll go back to the ice first. Don’t worry about the staff, I’ve texted her.”

“Is it alright though?”

“Hm? Alright to what?”

Yuuri asked back, as if it’s not obvious.

“For me to skate here. With you.”

“Of course. Hm, well, I don’t think it’s common knowledge, but really. It’s dangerous to skate on your own. I’ll keep watch while Yuu- I mean, the staff is away.”

It may not be common knowledge for the non-skaters, but Victor knew that. Joke aside, ice was really slippery and hard and cold. If one was to fall and unable to stand up, it could be fatal. The risk would never really disappear no matter how many gold one got. It took a long time until Yakov let him skate without supervision, and even after that he was always in his office while Victor skated.

Sure he’s an achieved coach with many regularly medaling students, but surely Yakov didn’t have that many paperwork that he had to stay in the rink until late night everyday for the past years. He always said something about irresponsible tarts making his hair fall out and yet he could never leave any of his students alone. In Japanese culture, Victor supposed it’s ‘ _tsundere’_?

(Suddenly the old man seemed cute. _Tsundere_ effect is just amazing. Suddenly Lilia trying to convince Yakov to stay with her again made so much sense.)

“Understood, Coach.”

Ah, what a slip.

It’s because the warning reminded Victor of Yakov that he let that out. It’s a bad habit, really. Since he found out that most people would stop nagging him when they thought of the permanently scowling and balding Yakov he just couldn’t help it.

“Good, good. You should always listen to what your coach says.”

To think that someone would cheerfully responded to that though.

“Specially at my age?”

“Well, everyone does look up to the elderly.”

Their eyes met and Yuuri lasted about five seconds before his straight face crumbled. He seemed determined to keep on staring at the ice as he started skating figure of eights again, although considerably faster than before.  

Soft laughing sound was audible, echoing inside the rink. Victor hastened in putting on his skates.

“Yuuri, I’m quite sure making fun of your guests is terrible business practice.”

“I don’t work here. You can’t do anything to me.”

Victor would love to prove Yuuri otherwise. He knew just how. Running to the rink from Yu-topia Akatsuki was enough warming up, Victor thought.

(In retrospect, it was probably not one of his brightest moment)

He circled the rink few times, aware of Yuuri’s gaze on him.

No one would have a skate if they’re not serious of skating. A skater of Yuuri’s caliber, retired or not, would instinctively try to size up their competition. Victor knew that all too well after years of competing.

Carmen seduced the aloof Don Jose in the plaza, aware that he was watching despite him pretending otherwise. That was the story in the opera, and the story he wanted to tell on that first Senior season.

Now, he wanted to tell that to Yuuri.

_‘I’m here. Look at me. Only me. I know you’re interested.’_

He didn’t start from the beginning. It’s a random segment in the middle of the program, the part he remembered Yuuri hummed to in the party. There hadn’t been a quad flip in his program, he was young and hadn’t perfected that jump yet when the program was created, but it felt right at that moment.

He nailed it, as always.

It felt good, surprisingly.

in Worlds, he’d felt nothing. The crowd’s cheers hadn’t been able to rouse anything from him for years. He had wondered how it would feel if they didn’t.

Yuuri didn’t cheer. He didn’t say anything until Victor went to him, but even so Victor felt smug and satisfied.

 “… that was a quad Flip.”

Yuuri said that, finally. His eyes wide and jaw slack, as if he was in shock. He probably was. He didn’t recognize Victor as the Living Legend with quad Flip as his signature move. Yuuri was probably the first person in a while who was truly surprised after seeing Victor’s jump.

Victor reveled on the feeling. It’s what drove him to experiment and push himself further when he was younger.

“Yes?”

That probably worth +2.5 GOE at least, but Victor was no judge.

“Not bad for an old man, isn’t it?”

Looking back, his idiocy was really staggering.

Yuuri let out a pained gasp, his hands went to clutch at his head. Victor caught him before he fell to the cold unforgiving ice, panicked.

“Yuuri?! Yuuri, are you-“

“ア...頭が...”

Needless to say, Victor couldn’t understand Japanese. But, he understood that if Yuuri was too pained to convert his thought to English, that would mean that pain was not something to be thought lightly.

If he’s in Russia, he’d call 03. If he’s in America, he’d call 911. Despite many of his competitions and shows taking place in Japan, embarrassingly Victor didn’t know who to call in emergency. In his panic he couldn’t even remember that he had Yu-topia Akatsuki’s phone number.

It was admittedly one of the scariest moment in his life.

Even more when faced with crying Yuuri, it’s infinitely scarier.

For the time being, he decided to carefully bring Yuuri to the bench.

“Yuuri? Yuuri, please. What can I do to help?”

Yuuri just raised his hand and shook his head, universal gesture for ‘no need, please just shut up’. Victor complied, didn’t know what else to do. Loud noise can aggravate things, headache included. Invading one’s space too. Victor reluctantly took one step away.

It’s his head. It’s probably related to his brain damage.

And with that thought, Victor realized what an idiot he was for surprising Yuuri for something as petty as a comeback.

No matter how fine Yuuri seemed, in truth he was still in the process of accepting the reality of his circumstances. He’d had one of his episodes, which according Chris meant that that morning Yuuri woke up thinking he was eighteen, not yet retired and still in America.

He knew Phichit was in Yu-topia Akatsuki, but it could be just because he had seen him.

Thinking back, when Yuuri was disoriented, it would be common sense to only tell him the necessities. It’s common in movies whenever someone woke up in the hospital.

_‘Please, don’t be surprised. But-‘_

He’d had an accident. It was five years ago. It caused brain damage. His memory was affected. He had to quit skating and school because of that.

Those alone were already so much.

That being said, there was still a lot to take in. Things that none from his surrounding deemed important enough for him to know immediately. Things that could wait lest it only aggravated him more.

For example, the fact that his friends Phichit and Chris competed in that year’s Worlds in Maihama, or that his idol Victor Nikiforov had become a living legend with five years Grand Slam under his belt with quad Flip as his signature move.

Five years ago, no one could do a quad Flip. At least, no one was brave enough to use it in competitions.

To Yuuri Katsuki at the present, no one in his knowledge should be capable of that jump. Not even his supposed idol, Victor Nikiforov, let alone the random foreigner he happened to meet by chance in Ice Castle.

It’d be like if someone was to suddenly tell Victor that they just returned from vacation in the moon. Victor would know that space travel was possible, but he wouldn’t know that it had gotten that far. It would be mindblowing enough for Victor to start questioning his reality even if that fact was not exactly nonsensical based on what he already knew.

Then, to Yuuri who had known beforehand that his memory was faulty…

It apparently was enough to trigger something.

“I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

“… why?”

“For surprising you.”

“I… like surprises. That’s why I became your fan.”

The sentiment was returned. Even so Victor was too anxious to feel glad about Yuuri recognizing him. To not be blamed for the pain Yuuri was going through even though he was obviously at fault.

Yuuri turned to meet Victor’s eyes, his own brown eyes glassy. His brows scrunched up in pain. He hissed when Victor, in reminisce of the party the night before, absentmindedly tried to smooth them. Victor pulled his hand, as if it was burnt. The guilt grew.

“Sorry for not recognizing you.”

Yuuri breathed in gasps. It’s Victor’s fault. He was under much duress already. Yuuri didn’t need more surprises.

Victor knew better than to even hope for Yuuri remembering him and their meetings the day before.

“… how did you know?”

“Your skating. I’m a fan. You’re older than I remembered but I would always recognize your skating. Is… what I’d like to say, but… you’re even better than I remember…”

“I’d take that as compliment then. Thank you.”

“Haha… You’re welcome… “

Victor didn’t understand the Japanese. He didn’t dare ask. It sounded like Yuuri was chiding himself for something, but Victor was afraid that telling him to stop that would only aggravate whatever he’s going through.

“… does this happen often?”

“What is?”

“This kind of headache.”

“No… I never- Ah… I don’t know. I don’t… I can’t…”

“Oh. Right. I’m sorry.”

Yuuri couldn’t remember. He wouldn’t know. Victor too, apparently hadn’t grasped the nature of Yuuri’s condition that well, if he could still ask that.

“It’s… alright. I’m fine now.”

He was very obviously still not fine.

“Let me take you home.”

Despite him being very obviously too pained to even stand upright, Yuuri declined. He insisted he was fine and that he still wanted to skate, and since Victor couldn’t even remember that he could just call the inn, they were at the standstill.

The staff came when they were arguing about it. She was a woman Victor vaguely recognized, who probably didn’t expect to see her friend and his supposed idol seemingly fighting, but thankfully she understood English and thus the situation rather quickly before Victor even had to explain, just from the banter between Victor and Yuuri.

She proceeded to try to call the inn, but the reply apparently wasn’t satisfactory. Obviously frustrated, she called another person and switched to English to explain.

“The inn is busy with dinner preparation, so no one can’t pick him up. I’m trying to ask Phichit-kun now. ああ、とどかない. そういえば今日携帯探しのつもりだったっけ...”

“優ちゃん、僕ー“

“大丈夫わけないでしょう. I’m sorry, I can’t reach Phichit-kun. I can’t leave the rink either and my husband is with the children. Mr. Nikiforov, please-“

“Yes, of course.”

Yuuri just groaned to his hands. The woman, relieved, thanked Victor before rushing to the staff room. She came out moments later with the first aid kit and a glass of water. No free hand, she’s pressing her phone to her ear with her shoulder. Victor recognized the word ‘taxy’ from her conversation.

“ _Yoshi_ , the taxy should be here in a moment. For now… Ibuprofenあるけど. 飲む？”

“うん. サンキュー.”                

 Yuuri drank the medicine she gave him.

“いい子.”

“そういうやめてさ. 僕もう子供じゃないから.”

“年下なんで、いつまでも子供だよ、勇利くんは.”

“姉さんっぽいな.”

Victor didn’t understand Japanese. They could be roasting him for all he knew, but at least Yuuri had started smiling again. The staff too, didn’t seem as frustrated. That’s good. That meant it’s not so serious.

The taxy came not long after, and by then Yuuri could stand by himself. He’s still hissing in pain at sudden movement, but he seemed better. More like those people in hospital after the medicine was already administered and they’re feeling better even if they can’t be discharged yet.

That’s good.

“ _Sore ja, Yuuri-kun no koto yoroshiku_. In English that’d be… I’ll leave Yuuri in your care…?”

Ah, so that’s what it meant. Victor had heard that words before. Some of the Japanese staffs would often mention it to him without explanation. He thought before it’s something in the same vein as ‘ _good luck_ ’ but apparently not.

“Yes. Of course. Thank you too, Miss… _Yuuchan_?”

That’s what Yuuri called her, if Victor was not mistaken.

The woman blinked once and turned to Yuuri, who was for some reason giggling to his palm. She then proceeded to cover her reddening face with her hands, sighing audibly as she did so.

“Ah, I’m sorry, did I say it wrong…?”

“No, no, that is right. Yes, you’re very right and not wrong. Don’t mind me. 勇利くん、このあとまたヴィクトルを誘ってね. あれレコードしなきゃ. 約束ですよ.”

“はいはい... じゃあ、またね、優ちゃん.”

Yuuri was still giggling after the taxy drove off.

Rather, it’s likely that he’s laughing harder now. Victor thought at first he’s writhing from pain again, but it’s not that. Yuuri leaned back to the seat, looking particularly nowhere. Color returning to his face with his smile.

“… Yuuri. I don’t get what’s so funny.”

“Haa… I’m sorry.  Aah, Victor really is a natural, I thought and for some reason it’s cute and- Ahaha! That face was really cute… Yuu-chan’s surprised face was really cute.“

Victor didn’t understand what it could be that made him laugh that hard.

“Did I say something wrong to Ms. Yuuchan? Yuuri. Yuuri, don’t lie to me.”

“You didn’t. You’re the epitome of politeness, really.”

There’s a but in that sentence somewhere. Victor waited.

“ _Vitya_.”

And felt his heart leapt to his throat at that sudden use of diminutive of his name. Only Yakov used that to call him, and that’s because he’s been Victor’s coach since Novice.

Victor didn’t think anyone would think of him that highly (or lowly?) to even think of wanting to use that diminutive. Chris could never get used to Russian, and Georgi said he’d rather not out of respect for his senior.

Chris said he’d rather not do that too then.

(Georgi was only one day younger. So maybe Victor liked to exact a bit revenge out of pettiness by pretending to forget his birthday, but that’s no one’s fault but Georgi’s own.)

“Hm, not really. It’s not quite the same, maybe? Maybe Vitenka? Yeah, Vitenka I guess.”

Yuuri nodded, agreeing to a concept in his mind that's not yet voiced to Victor. Victor wondered what drove this man to suddenly contemplating which diminutive to use to call Victor, and what made him to decide on _Vitenka_. Vitenka was no matter how you look at it, a bit too much.

“Yuu-chan’s real name is Yuuko, so it’s just surprising that you’d call her by that dimi… nutive…? Gah, I hope that’s the word. Anyway, yeah. So you calling her Yuu-chan is the same with me calling you Vitenka.”

Oh, he’s not really calling. Somehow that felt a bit disappointing. 

“I am sorry. I didn’t realize that it’s not her real name.”

To be fair, it’s not like Yuuko had nametag on. Besides, he was too busy panicking and wanting to make sure Yuuri stayed conscious and not suddenly broke into seizure. Since he thought it’s related to Yuuri’s brain damage it was a valid concern.  

Though if his memory served right, Yuuko was clinging to a burly man last night in the party. She was very obviously taken. She did say she had a husband. What that husband would think when he found out Victor had acted so rudely to his wife was not something Victor look forward to know about.

(The answer might surprise everyone.)

“Haha, don’t be. She’s so happy she told me to bring you to the rink again so she could record it this time. She’s a fan too, you know.”

“I am so sorry.”

“If you don’t mind, please visit the rink again. It’ll make her happy. And… uhm, don’t worry. I promise this won’t ever happen again.”

He wondered how Yuuri could say things like that, with that face, with that smile. He shouldn’t had to smile while in pain just to appease others. That didn’t suit him.

That seemed, and felt, painful.

“Come with me. Let me know when you’re feeling better.”

“… wa… wait, what?”

“Don’t you think Yuuko will be happier if you’re there too? Ah, you can ask Phichit to join you too.”

For some reason, that felt right. Even if Yuuri probably only said ‘okay’ to be nice, even if he would forget making that promise in twelve hours, it felt right to ask Yuuri of that.

Hiroko, unprompted, gave Victor somewhat of an excuse and explanation upon arrival. The inn had a truck, but it was being used to get supplies, and since they’d have to get taxy anyway it’d be faster if the taxy was called to the rink. As for Yuuri’s headache…

Well, it’s just natural that she didn’t want to share. Victor was a stranger, a mere guest in her inn. No one would want to share private things to stranger. Still…

“I’m sorry for having to see him like that.”

Being told that made Victor felt terrible.

It was him after all who caused it.

But, even so, even if he regretted surprising Yuuri…

There’s not even a bit of regret from asking him out again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ア。。。頭が。。。/ A... atama ga... = My head...  
> ああ、とどかない。そういえば今日携帯探しのつもりだったっけ。。。/ Aah, todokanai. Souieba kyou ha keitai sagashi no tsumori datta ke… = I can't reach him. Oh yeah, today he wanted to find new phone...  
> 優ちゃん、僕ー / Yuu-chan, boku- = Yuu-chan, I-  
> 大丈夫わけないでしょう/ Daijoubu wake nai deshou = There's no way you're fine  
> Ibuprofenあるけど。飲む？/ Ibuprofen aru kedo. Nomu? = I have ibuprofen. Want some?  
> うん。サンキュー。/ Un… sankyuu = Yeah... Thank you  
> いい子 / Iiko = Good boy  
> そういうやめてさ。僕もう子供じゃないから / Souiu yamete sa. Boku mou kodomo janai kara. = Stop that. I'm not a kid anymore.  
> 年下なんで、いつまでも子供だよ、勇利くんは / Toshi shita nande, itsumademo kodomo dayo, Yuuri-kun ha. = You're younger, so will always be a kid to me.  
> 姉さんっぽいな / Nee san ppoi na = Spoken like a big sis  
> 勇利くん、このあとまたヴィクトルを誘ってね。あれレコードしなきゃ。約束ですよ / Yuuri-kun, kono ato mata Victor wo sasotte ne. Are record shinakya. Yakusoku desu yo. = Yuuri, after this, invite Victor to the rink again. I need to record that. Promise me.  
> はいはい。。。じゃあ、またね、優ちゃん / Hai, hai… jaa, matta ne, Yuu-chan = Yes, yes... Then, see you later, Yuu-chan


	6. Chapter 6

Mari was eating Victor’s katsudon when he found her, Makkachin eating her expensive snack by her feet.

A small poodle, Victor wasn’t sure if he’s toy sized or a standard puppy, was whining. Mari was holding tightly onto his belly with her free hand, holding him back from jumping and join Makkachin on her very extravagant dinner.

“こらこら。お前はまだだめでしょう？ヴィっちゃんのはあっち。”

The small poodle whined quite pitifully, slumping in Mari’s hold. Apparently, he was just getting better from an illness, and thus was currently restricted to non-solid food.

Apparently, his name was Victor.

Yuuri named him ‘Victor’ because he’s too excited. Apparently at first he wanted to name him with something more resembling Makkachin’s, but when asked he could only let out ‘ _Victor’_ from happiness. When he realized it, the name ‘Victor’ was already printed in the dog’s health certificate.

It couldn’t be helped.

Even so, it’s only Victor in his certifications. The Katsukis and most people in Hasetsu call him with diminutive, Vicchan. Apparently there were some who didn’t know that the dog was really named after Yuuri’s idol.

Because he’s cute and cheerful and playful, the dearest thing. Yuuri was always happy playing with him, they said.

Unlike when he’s thinking of Victor, apparently. Probably. With Victor’s track record it wouldn’t be surprising if it’s true.

(Yuuri always seemed better when he hadn’t known that he was talking to Victor Nikiforov after all)

 “You’re back. Welcome.”

“Thank you for watching over Makkachin.”

“Hope you don’t mind this. When it’s gotten cold it’s not good anyway.”

“Yes, it’s alright. I’ll pay for that nevertheless.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Please let me.”

“Suit yourself.”

She’s not the type to refuse fortune when it came to her, apparently. Not even for the sake of politeness. Victor heard that there’s some culture which believe that refusing itself was impolite, so maybe it’s like that too in Hasetsu.

“Hm? Didn’t you skate? What’s with the long face?”

“It’s nothing.”

“Let me guess. You met Yuuri and you’re shocked he didn’t recognize you?”

“… not exactly.”

“That’s a surprise. Then again… his memory problem is not exactly a secret, huh. I heard from Minako-sensei. You’re friends with that silver medalist Chris, right? He told you?”

“Yes, I did hear about Yuuri from him. Though not until recently.”

“Recently.”

She repeated that last word like a question.

So Victor told her. He told her that Chris told him about how he had accident in America and the damage in his brain resulted in this constant memory loss. He told her that he didn’t recognize Yuuri at first.

He couldn’t remember Yuuri at all.

He didn’t think anyone had ever mentioned him, even though someone at least must have. Yuuri Katsuki was a World championship record breaker.

That’s right.

Years ago, they must had ended up in the same place for the same competition, even for different category. Years ago, someone must had asked Victor about Yuuri who broke his record.

But, he forgot. He must have forgotten. Even if everyone remembered, even if Victor was sure if he asked his rink mates in Russia, he’d be told stories about how years ago he met a cute shy skater from Japan who had practically beat him and irresponsibly made his own rival.

(That last part was not sure by the way. As Yuuri himself once said, how could one be expected to remember what they forgot, they _forgot_.)

That’s why, he couldn’t even be offended that Yuuri forgot about him. Not when it’s not even his fault he couldn’t remember.

But…

“I guess what surprised me was… how much he seemed to be in pain.”

Because Yuuri himself said he wanted to skate with Victor. That’s why when he turned out to be shocked to the point of getting severe headache, it was surprising.

Victor could mostly guess how things will go in any case. What would happen if he did what kind of thing, even if admittedly it’s mostly restricted to skating. That’s why it’s scary when he couldn’t imagine what he could do after he couldn’t skate anymore.

That’s why he probably expected that things would go as he imagined with Yuuri too.

As thanks for surprising him the day before. As thanks for relieving his worries even just for a bit.

But, perhaps as expected of Yuuri Katsuki, it’s once again a surprise.

Even if it’s not a happy one.

Mari fished a pack of cigarette from her pocket and lit one. She inhaled deeply and exhaled a puff audibly while muttering what sounded like commentary she didn’t want Victor to hear in Japanese. Victor watched as Vicchan jumped from her lap and went to join Makkachin, but obediently not eat even a mouthful of Makkachin’s snack.

“Headache?”

“… yes, I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be. As you said, it’s nothing.”

“It can’t be nothing.”

“I said that too, but it really is. The doctor himself said so.”

There’s nothing else in Yuuri’s brain. The damage had healed and shouldn’t cause more symptoms other than from the ruined structure of his memory center. That’s why, it’s nothing.

That’s why, there’s nothing that can be done but to let it pass on its own. Because everyone’s best guess was that it’s stress related. That’s why it’s seemingly the most painful after his episodes.

“It’s not fine. But it’s really nothing.”

The wording made Victor more solemn than he already was.

Makkachin came to Victor after her meal was done, licking Victor’s fingers as if she was begging for more. Her eyes were sparkling in contentment. Vicchan came over to sniff at her butt curiously. Upon spotting Victor, he barked once and moved to nuzzle on his leg, tail wagging excitedly.

Victor petted Makkachin and held up Vicchan. His eyes were whitish, sign of old age and bad eyesight. Upon closer inspection, his brown coat was marred with grey hair too. There’s slight tremor in his movement. Still, he was undeniably as lively as a puppy.

“… hm, he likes you.”

It’s a mutual instant affection.

(Still…)

* * *

Yuuri approached him noon the next day just before lunch time, hesitantly asked if he was Victor Nikiforov with blushing cheeks. He then proceeded to tell him that he’s fine now.

(More than twelve hours had passed since his episode when Yuuri came to him that afternoon. Yuuri recognized him must only because of his notes. It’s not because he _remembered_.)

“Let’s skate. I promised,” he said.

Phichit was there too, recording everything like how he was in Worlds. He was chatty and nice to talk with. Admittedly, Victor talked more with him than with Yuuri

Victor didn’t blame him. It must had been hard striking conversation with stranger he could hardly recognize, let alone the one said to be his old idol.

It was fun.

They skated and chatted about their mutual love of classical stories, of different interpretation to love stories with sad ends. Phichit dragged them to the shopping district after couple hours of skating and made them help him choose souvenirs. Victor ended up buying more than even them combined. It was few hours spent without Victor having to pretend anything.

Rather, he couldn’t.

The two young men were monsters. Yuuri soon lose his hesitancy, because Phichit Chulanont was a miracle worker who could defrost any situation.

(Victor would like to think that Yuuri stopped caring, though it’s more likely that he simply forgot the reason he raised his guard in the first place)

Between Phichit who’s all laugh and playful jabs and Yuuri who usually returned his friend’s teasing with sassiness, it’s hard to maintain Victor’s idol persona. Not when he’s actually similar to the younger men in the first place, and he had no intention of being like nanny to the men that could still be called boys.

They talked shits about a lot of things and people, argued about a lot of things, laughed about a lot of things. They talked a lot, bought a lot, played a lot. When he realized it, he was already on the train to Fukuoka because Yuuri claimed that the best ramen is in Nagahama street.

Even though Victor could honestly say he had fun, Yuuri seemed almost sad when he’s filling his pocket notebook as they waited for their order to come.

(Victor wondered how many he’d written, how many Yuuri would have to read everytime his memory resets and how he’s feeling then.)

“Aaah… What a day. We should do this again, Yuuri. What do you think?”

Phichit said as he took pictures of the steaming hot ramen. Yuuri closed his book, glanced at Victor then started crushing garlic available there. Victor copied him, heart beating loud even in the midst of chatter.

“思ったより。。。優しいな。クリスが言ったとおり。”

Yuuri said, and Victor felt lump in his throat at the sight of Yuuri’s smile and words.

“できればもっと話したい。でも、僕はこんなんだから、僕からは聞かない。きっと。”

Bitterness spread, ruining his good mood that day. Fear and nervousness ruining his taste buds, making even the delicious ramen tasted bitter. Suddenly, the garlic was too much.

Phichit then flicked Yuuri’s forehead.

“そういうやめてよ。Hey, Victor, don’t listen to this idiot, alright? Ignore him.”

Victor couldn’t bring himself to tell him that he couldn’t understand Japanese.

But from the tone, it’s rather obvious.

“While we’re in Fukuoka, why don’t we go look for that phone now, Yuuri?”

“… well, this one is still fine, for the time being. Besides, I don’t think- Well, uhm…”

Yuuri glanced at Victor, hand clutching his notebook on his pocket.

Apparently his phone had been lagging for a while, and Phichit had promised that he’d help Yuuri find a new phone since he too felt like it’s about time to change his. Even so, their schedule had been thrown out of whack thanks to the memory reset which unexpectedly happened for the first timeafter almost a year according to Mari.

The doctor was confident that even if he couldn’t retain long term memory, the reset would not happen again. That his condition was stable.

Still, it did.

They would have to plan another visit to be safe, but since the doctor was in Tokyo, it’d have to wait.

The Yuuri of the past might had agreed to change his phone, but the current Yuuri was apparently nervous about it. Understandably, since he’d just experience the loss all over again.

What if he was to forget again?

The new phone, different with what he knew would just be source of anxiety, Yuuri said. He’d doubt what’s in it, because unlike his notes he wouldn’t be able to stop thinking that its content could be faked.

“Well… I guess I can try to find that model in Thailand and send you through mail, for now. But, Yuuri, it’s time, you know.”

Soon, the software wouldn’t be able to accommodate the applications, and even the new ones still sold in developing countries like Thailand would be unusable.

“… yeah. I will have to soon enough. But, not now, Phichit. Please.”

Phichit sighed audibly but conceded.

As he heard that exchange, Victor glanced at the amnesiac man eating next to him.

Looking back to their many first meetings, he wondered if Yuuri had doubted him too.

He wondered if Yuuri had ever stop doubting.

* * *

Couple days passed with Victor focusing on his programs, the songs getting louder and clearer in his mind. When he imagined the choreography, it was of a black haired man dancing wistfully on the ice, sad smile never leaving his face.

Yuuri Katsuki, obviously. Victor wasn’t that oblivious. The amnesiac was an enigma that he wished to learn all about, a surprise he’d found after so long, even if his response when Phichit asked  that day in ramen place made Victor hesitate in meeting him again.

He’d been forcing himself to feel satisfied with the few glimpses and polite nods and smiles they exchanged during meal and bath time. It would have to be enough, for Yuuri and also his own sake. Even though Victor wanted so much to talk to him again and mine all inspiration Victor could get out of him.

 (Something still felt like missing from the dance, but Victor still couldn’t figure out what)

He was trying to sketch the costume in his room when someone knocked.

“Nikiforov-san…?”

“Yuuri, how could he hear you if you do it that softly. Here, you gotta-“

The next three banging were so loud Makkachin jolted from her nap on the corner, whining in confusion.

“Victor, you there?”

“ _Cho_ \- Phichit-kun, that’s not how you announce yourself…!”

“Hm. Then, Yuuri. Unbutton your first two buttons… Like so. Now, knock the door and say ‘room service’. That’s the way, isn’t it?”

“何を企んでだ、お前？！”

Red faced Yuuri and cackling Phichit were there when Victor opened the door. Some luggage was by their feet.

“Heya, dude. Nice to see you still alive, _hikki_.”

“My name is Nikiforov, with an N. Not H.”

Phichit just laughed again at the response, while Yuuri looked away with red cheeks and twitching lips. He turned back to Victor slowly, glancing for a short moment before polite smile bloomed in his face.

“…good afternoon. It’s not… nice to meet you- I mean! We’ve met… haven’t we?”

“We have,” Victor confirmed. Yuuri just nodded, seemingly relieved. It made Victor wonder if in his notes there’s description of Victor Nikiforov the inn guest who always literally caused him headaches or if it’s just Phichit dragging him along and having told him just recently.

Even though they’ve been sharing a roof, it’s relieving to see him again, admittedly.

Yuuri who wasn’t in pain. Who was smiling and seemingly accepting and polite, the perfect picture of a host. How Victor longed to see his other side, the sassy and playful man only privy for those close to him. A glimpse was enough to make him feel addicted.

Then, surprisingly, because when had it ever been not surprising with Yuuri Katsuki involved, Phichit howled.

Apparently Yuuri had just stomped on his foot.

“What the hell-“

“話したいのはお前だから黙ってないでよ。もうこんな時間だし。”

Phichit glared at his supposed best friend and grumbled, though Victor couldn’t know why.

Never before had Victor been overcome with desire that strong to learn a new language.

“Right, there’s no easy way to say this. Victor, my man, I’m gonna miss you bad.”

He said with hand over his chest while wiping nonexistent tears in his eye.

And then it clicked.

“Oh… oh! You’re going back today?”

“Yep. Vacation over. Gotta go back to reality and deal with real life. Sucks but true. College admission awaits. Though I’m not going back to Detroit, if that’s what you means by ‘back’.”

Having spent most of his teen years in America apparently took a toll on him and his family, and his latest achievements gave him promise of sponsorships, scholarship, and better accommodation in his home country. There’s no down side to it, and so Phichit decided to return and make one of the newest rinks as his home rink. Apparently he’d been preparing it since last spring when he landed a place in Grand Prix Qualifier.

“I see… Yes, I’ve heard about that. I wish you good luck then. See you in Grand Prix, Phichit.”

“Better bet on it! So anyway, when are YOU going back, Victor? I need to ask for the photos. I gotta upload those.”

Ah.

Aaah. That’s right.

Hiroko hadn’t asked, but it’s got to be the reason why Yuuri was there too. He’d applied for a week stay and he completely forgot about that.

That would explain the many messages from Yakov, Georgi and Chris he decided to ignore after one reply of ‘ _Making programs. Don’t disturb me. I’ll get back to you when I’m done’_ because he didn’t want to lose his focus in composing.

“You don’t have to wait. You can upload them now if you-“

“Don’t joke. There’s no way I’d do that.”

Phichit cut him off, harsh. His smile somehow lost all of its cheerfulness and inside his dark eyes were storm.

Somehow, it’s chilling.

Phichit was way smaller than him, and with his smiles he always seemed younger than he really was. He’s also one of the most chill and comforting people Victor had the pleasure of knowing. Logically, there’s no reason to be afraid.

And yet he did.

“That’d summon your fans here, Nikivorov. None of us want that, isn’t it?”

“… Phi-“

Yuuri grabbed his arm, and as if snapped out of something, Phichit let out an audible gasp. He glanced at his best friend, who was shaking his head, then back to Victor who was admittedly so confused.

“I mean, you wouldn’t like that when you’re trying to focus, right? ’sides, Yuuri will be going to Tokyo soon too. Won’t it be hard on Hiroko if there’s sudden influx of customer when only half of the inn’s worker available?”

“… true,” Victor opted to respond. Neutral.

They’re hiding something.

(Who was he to feel annoyed by it?)

“This is it then. See you again, Victor.”

As if the warmth of spring that started to fill Hasetsu was from him all along, the air suddenly felt colder with Phichit Chulanont’s departure.

* * *

The photos.

Phichit was reacting quite strongly to them.

For some reason, he didn’t want to post photos until he’d finished his vacation. Even though Victor knew that he wouldn’t hesitate in normal circumstances. The number of photos and videos he’d uploaded in competitions and during school life in Detroit had reached the thousands.

It’s hard to say if Phichit had strange policy just during that particular vacation, but Victor’s first thought that it’s his parents or coach’s order to protect him from aggressive fans seemed to be not right. It’s more than that. Phichit himself had a reason or else he would outright say it.

There was something, a secret, and it was related to Yuuri.

Phichit’s photos and videos were one of the keys to unraveling that secret.

Victor couldn’t concentrate, he had to know. So he went through all of Phichit’s social media account’s history, because he had to get the gnawing curiosity erased somehow if he wanted to finish his programs.

Then again, what he was even looking for…

Victor himself didn’t know.

He just knew that he was connected to that secret.

“Good God, he’s more of a surprise than I realized…”

There was a mystery and so there was a surprise.

Yuuri Katsuki’s whole existence was filled to the brim with it.

One of the tabs he opened was a site to buy online tickets back to St. Petersburg, but with how things were, how could he just leave?

He said as much to Yakov, who was understandably furious.

_ “Vitya, what the hell-“ _

Yakov should had expected as much, to be honest. Didn’t he already get the feeling that Victor was planning retirement? He shouldn’t be that surprised that Victor wanted to prioritize other things beside his programs for his possibly last season.

_ “You have a problem, stupid boy! I gave you space because you do seem like you need it but that doesn’t mean I’m going to let you be obsessed with some random man you happen to meet on your soul-searching!” _

“Oh, come on, Yakov. I’m not-”

_ “No, don’t you dare finish that sentence, Vitya. I’ve known you since you’re just a brat and I know how attached you can get. Not to mention how delusional you can be at the prospect of romance!” _

Yakov spat out the last word as if it offended him to even have to think of it. Victor Nikiforov was almost thirty. He’s an adult despite how childish he could be. His love life (or off record, lack of) was no one’s business but his own.

Usually, even Yakov wouldn’t say more than a warning to not let it influence his skating much, and also to be careful of angry obsessive self-entitled fans. Still, he’d figured out that Victor was in bad place and that it could be dangerous when he’s attached without anyone else available to give him input, with how rash he could be.

Drawing bridge effect. The rush from adrenaline could be mistaken as rush from love at first sight. Yakov feared that it was the case with him and Yuuri.

But Victor didn’t want to _romance_ Yuuri.

Not when Yuuri could barely remember him. Not when being near Victor only caused him pain.

Yuuri was just his muse for the moment. Without him, Victor wouldn’t feel inspired in the first place to compose new programs and try to think things through about his retirement plans. He’s someone Victor was indebted to. It’s just that he’s so full of mystery and surprise and Victor couldn’t help but to want to solve every puzzle Yuuri had to offer.

It’d help with the program, surely.

_ “One week! You must return in seven days, Vitya. No more compromise! And I’m buying your ticket!” _

“Thank you, Yakov. You’re the best.”

Faint sound of grumbling could be heard from other side.

_ “Who’s he? Can he be trusted?” _

“Yakov, it’s not like I’m asking him anything, or vice versa. We barely even met the past week I’ve been here.”

_ “Good God, save me.” _

Victor had no idea what’s that supposed to mean.

_ “Name, Vitya.” _

“Yakov, don’t tell me you’re going to do background check on him!”

It’s not the first time it ever happened, to be honest. It’s disconcerting, but in the past Yakov was even more protective. There were times when it became reason for a fullblown fight between them, and a cause for admittedly unsatisfactory season for Victor. After a lecture from Lilia about the importance of space however, Yakov had gotten off Victor’s back considerably.

_ “Knowing you, he could end up being the last person to see you alive. Give me his name.” _

“… Yakov, you’re too much.”

It couldn’t be helped. Right now, Yakov had valid reasons to be worried. Victor heaved a sigh and relented, just for now.

(Victor didn’t dare saying if Yuuri ended up being the last person to see him alive, Yakov wouldn’t be able to extract the detail from him since his memory would be erased in about twelve hours)

“He’s one of the owners of the inn I’m staying at. His name is Yuuri.”

_ “… Yuuri.” _

“Yes. But I think his name is written with double u unlike our Yuri. He dances so beautifully that I’m inspired. He used to skate too, you know.”

_ “Don’t tell me you mean Yuuri Katsuki.” _

“Oh, you know him! Well of course you do. He won Junior World Record five years ago and our Yuri failed to break his record, haha. He must still be sulking now, am I right?”

There’s silence. Victor was starting to wonder if there’s signal problem, with how loud rustling sound from the other side was.

_ “Of all people, it has to be Yuuri Katsuki... What the hell…” _

Yakov breathed out, and Victor was stunned and confused.

“What’s wrong with Yuuri?”

_ “You’re what’s wrong, you imbecile brat. Don’t you dare tell anyone you’re staying in that boy’s inn! I’m serious, Vitya.” _

“What… Yakov, you nonsense. What brought this up? You’ve never banned me from saying who I’m with before.”

_ “That boy is an exception. Listen to me for once.” _

“But why? Besides, Phichit and Chris knew.”

Victor stopped himself from bringing up Yuri Plisetsky’s name, even though he must had figured out too. He’d asked about Yuuri, so he must had figured out that Victor had met him somehow.

_“Those two are fine. They wouldn’t leak anything about Katsuki. They know.”_

They knew.

They knew something about Yuuri that Victor didn’t. That only Victor didn’t, apparently.

Apparently, Yuuri himself was the secret.

Why…?

(There's no way he could leave now with that revelation)

_ “Vitya, you must leave that place quickly. It's dangerous. I’ll look for the first flight possible now, and-” _

“That’s impossible, Yakov.”

_ “Vitya-“ _

“No, really. I brought Makkachin with me. I’d need to deal with her transfer first. A week would be the fastest I could attempt.”

At the mention of her name, Makkachin woof-ed softly and glanced at Victor. At the sight of her master, she apparently decided that she was needed, as she rose from her pillow and came to Victor to sleep with his thigh as pillow. Victor quietly thanked her with scratches behind her ears.

_“Fine. A week, Vitya. No more.”_

Reluctantly, Victor agreed. Lest Yakov came in person to Hasetsu to drag him back to St Petersburg, that’d be embarrassing.

“No more.”

Victor echoed, and then he cut the line.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> こらこら。お前はまだだめでしょう？ヴィっちゃんのはあっち。/Kora kora. Omae ha mada dame deshou. Vicchan no ha acci = No, no. You can't eat that yet. Vicchan's portion is that one.  
> 思ったより。。。優しいな。クリスが言ったとおり。/Omotta yori… yasashii na. Kurisu ga itta toori = He's... kinder than I expected. Just as Chris said.  
> できればもっと話したい。でも、僕はこんなんだから、僕からは聞かない。きっと。/Dekireba, motto hanashitai. Demo, boku ha konnan dakara, boku kara wa kikanai. Kitto = If possible, I want to talk more. But, I'm like this, so I would not ask him first. Surely.  
> そういうやめてよ。/Souiu yamete yo = Stop that  
> 何を企んでだ、お前？！/Nani wo takurande da omae?! = What are you plotting?!  
> 話したいのはお前だから黙ってないでよ。もうこんな時間だし。/Hanashitai no ha omae dakara damattenaideyo. Mou konna jikan dashi. = The one who wants to talk to him is you, so don't just stand there. It's already this late. 
> 
> Hikki is short for hikkikomori, or a shut in.


	7. Chapter 7

Victor had a dream that felt so real it could had been a memory.

Yuri Plisetsky was missing, his grandfather claimed as he rubbed the back of his head in wonder as to where the Novice could be. Yakov made Victor go look for him. As usual, he’s as flightly as a cat and no one had seen him. When he realized it, Victor was already in a room full of skaters. Children, most of them. Maybe Junior or Novice skaters. Maybe both.

Yuri was there, arguing with a cheerful looking Asian boy, seemingly geedy with euphoria. He was seemingly sweaty and out of it, obviously just finished his program very recently and obviously satisfied with it.

“How dare you! I’m supposed to the _Yuri_ who defeats him!”

Yuri yelled in Russian, making little sense to Victor. The Asian boy, clearly not fluent in Russian and thus must had understood Yuri even more poorly, just laughed and ruffled Yuri’s hair. He seemed pleased.

_“Spasiba.”_

He said, his accent mangling the word a bit and it’s honestly cute, but Yuri was clearly about to kick him. Victor decided it’s time to intervene.

“Yuri! There you are!”

Both turned to him and the Asian boy went from fair to tomato red in two seconds flat. It was fascinating. He’s cute and adorable. Victor was reminded somewhat of the cute Swiss who seemed as if he had just arrived from the meadow. Victor hoped he could see him again.

“Vi… Victor Nikiforov! How… what… why…?”

Victor ignored Yuri’s angry rant and the chattering of the onlookers and instead just smiled and enjoyed the dumbstruck face of the cute boy.

Who then ran away with speed that would make any Olympian runners jealous.

The scene changed.

It’s a press meeting. People were congratulating him and asking about what he’d do next. Yakov seemed really proud and did most of the answering. Victor was honestly bored and instead spent most of the time munching chocolate while remembering the cute boy from earlier.

He wondered if he was intimidating. Chris acted like he’s not, and little Yuri yelled at him all the time. Mila liked to jump him and hug him as she complained about her day. Victor was supposed to be good with younger people. That’s why, the boy’s action was a surprise.

Victor hadn’t even said a thing to him.

“Victor, congratulation of your World Record. Please, can you tell me what you think about your Junior Record being broken though?”

Victor was then in the banquet, enjoying champagne with Chris, who was then sticking to juice. Still a goodie-two-shoes. Still pure. Still that kid from the meadow.

“I still don’t get why he ran away form me, Chris. Am I really that scary?”

Chris’s smile was wide, just like a cat who got the cream. When he woke up, Victor would think that he knew then who Phichit got his mischievous smile and personality from.

“He seemed your age. Do you know who he is?”

“Of course. Who doesn’t? He’s the one who beat _the_ Victor Nikiforov’s World Record.”

Victor didn’t.

Chris said something animatedly, but Victor could not remember anything he said.

(Because, in reality, Victor still couldn’t remember ever crossing path with Yuuri Katsuki)

Just…

The last words…

“I’ll let you two meet then. You’re doing that show in Detroit right? Give me three tickets, and I’ll take him to see you. Well, him and another friend of mine, you don’t mind, do you? It’ll help with his nerves. He’s skittish.”

Victor woke up with a gasp.

* * *

“… what now?”

Mari Katsuki found him watching Makkachin and Vicchan played together, and Victor answered her question with an audible sigh to his palm.

“Apparently I’m more forgetful than your brother.”

“Did you hit your head too?”

“… maybe my mother dropped me when I was a baby. Who knows?”

Mari snorted and fished a cigarette out of her pocket. Apparently it’s her smoke break time. If Yuuri skated to destress, Mari smoked. She held a belief that she’s the healthiest in the family though, despite the bad habit. She’s probably right.

She’s probably going to be like that dancing teacher of Yuuri that they mentioned during their shopping trip together, the one who still seemed like she’s in her twenties even though she’s older than even Toshiya. She’s probably going to stop aging and live until one hundred and twenty.

How Victor would like to know the secret of that, and he refused to believe it’s the cigarette. Probably something in the water. They did own a hotspring resort. Maybe it’s really fountain of youth.

“I seem to remember Kaa-san saying you’re only staying for a week, in case you forgot about that too.”

(He did, but Victor stayed silent)

“Well, more money for us, anyway. And she said you’re going to promote the place and her cooking? Sure hope you haven’t forget that.”

“… huh.”

“Yep. Take a selfie or something. Get Yuuri to join you. Whatever. Just don’t forget,” she said before leaving Victor alone once more with the two dogs.

After she left, Victor sighed into his hands, long and loud.

As expected, it’s not just him. The nagging feeling. It’s most likely true.

Victor wanted to laugh or cry, he didn’t know.

Because it sure felt as if Mari and maybe even Hiroko and Toshiya were as much in the dark as Victor was.

Victor had liked taking pictures since forever. Before he’d gotten tired of everything, he’d liked it even more.

That’s why, in that show five years ago too, Victor took a lot of pictures of himself and everything around him.

He checked the pictures he’d uploaded, was sure that they were most if not all of what he had taken.

He went through them, repeatedly.

But…

None of them were in the photos. If he was to ask Yakov or any of the Russian skaters, they would probably confirm that Chris didn’t make it to the exhibition.

Even though he definitely had asked him to come, even though he surely had given him three tickets for him and his friends to come, Christophe Giacometti was nowhere in the photos.

He wasn’t there, so naturally so was Yuuri and presumably Phichit, the other friend he was talking about.

The photos _were_ the key, but Victor admittedly got more confused.

Because, he knew how much Chris and Phichit loved Yuuri. They were friends. Close friends. The way they acted couldn’t be an act. They teased each other the way close friends would, without hesitation and secure in the belief that they would stay friends despite such teasings.

They were already close since before Yuuri lost his ability to retain long term memory.

Phichit already made Yuuri an irreplaceable subject in his world, enough that even after Yuuri couldn’t stay in Detroit anymore he made it his mission to not lose contact.

(Something must had happened which made Chris hesitant to come, but despite that as he said, Yuuri called him first every time his memory resets)  

That’s why he felt weird.

Because, why would good friends not put photos of themselves together in their blogs? Victor followed Chris, and he never remembered ever seeing pictures of Yuuri. When he checked Phichit’s too, there was none of it which included Yuuri.

Even the ones uploaded in his trip… in the videos… the most he mentioned was that he’s visiting a friend in Kyushu and someone named Mari, their sister, was picking him up. Even though Victor had seen him taking millions of selfies with Yuuri, not one of them made it to the internet.

And Phichit’s reaction before he left…

The family was fine with hanging up photos of Yuuri with his friends from abroad, but they were not. Those friends knew something they didn’t.

Five years ago, what happened? What happened to Yuuri Katsuki?

What did they know that he and the Katsukis didn’t?

* * *

Was it really a good idea to try and find out?

Victor still didn’t know.

It’s not like Yuuri can be cured even if he found out.

* * *

“Can I help you?”

Yuuri was wearing the red uniform of Yu-topia employees when Victor found him in the front office, making his resemblance to the rest of his family stood out. Perhaps because Phichit was already gone, he’s back to his duty. Victor wistfully wondered if he’d forgotten about meeting Phichit too.

The idea was expected but still painful.

The Yuuri he was seeing couldn’t remember him. That’s why, that skating session and shopping trip with Phichit was as if a midsummer night dream. It happened, and yet there’s no evidence of it.

Phichit wouldn’t even post the pictures of that day.

_Shit._

Yuuri was smiling, and wasn’t it weird that Victor wanted so bad to erase it from his face?

 “Yes, I was wondering if you can help me with transportation to airport? My friend said he was driven there by one of the employees. I have a dog, and I don’t think-“

Victor let the words hang, but Yuuri nodded and smiled knowingly nevertheless.

“Ah, of course. We provide that service.”

He took a big book which apparently used to make note of who needed to be driven to where and whether they’ve completed the payment yet or not. Victor mechanically filled in the form, eyes focused on the book and not at all at Yuuri’s finger guiding him through the unfamiliar scribbles of Japanese.

“… _spasibo. Ya tsenyu vashu pomosh’_.”

Thank you. I appreciate it.

Somehow, remembering the dream he just had the night before, he felt like he had to say it.

Like testing the waters.

Yuuri’s smile got a tad bit wider.

_“Ne vopros.”_

Holy shit.

The feeling was familiar. His ears tingled a bit.

Victor must had stared, because Yuuri shifted his gaze back to his ledger, fidgeting with the edge of the page. His cheeks turned the slightest bit red. The sight also felt familiar. He half expected someone to suddenly come and kick Yuuri in the shin.

“Don’t expect much of me though. I only understand a bit,” he continued in accented Russian.

For a moment forgetting that to the Yuuri in front of him at that moment he was a complete stranger, Victor tried to remember if he had said anything to Yuuri in Russian.

_“Wow.”_

He let out without thinking, and Yuuri turned few shades redder.

Well, somehow that led to things.

Because, it’s rather similar to the dream, to be honest.

Yuuri of that time was aware of Victor’s existence, still remembering from a chat with Phichit earlier that day when the younger skater reported his safe arrival in his hometown. Apparently, Phichit had decided to remind Yuuri everyday for the fact that his idol, Victor Nikiforov, was the shut in the inn’s best room and wouldn’t let distance stop him from doing apparently exactly that.

And, obviously, despite not realizing at first that he was helping the Victor Nikiforov, there’s no way he wouldn’t recognize Victor’s name written in his ledger. Even if Victor didn’t write it in roman letters and instead with Cyrillic, Yuuri would still recognize it, Victor thought. Recognize _him_.

Like Yuuri in that dream, this Yuuri could instantly recognize Victor.

But, this Yuuri was different with the Yuuri of five years ago.

For once, this Yuuri at least expected to see Victor at least once. Whether it was for room service or just from passing by each other somewhere.

That’s why he didn’t run this time. Because he wasn’t surprised. He was prepared enough to stand his ground.

But, this Yuuri did surprise Victor with that.

(When had he ever not, to be honest?)

Because, this Yuuri knew about his condition. This Yuuri already accepted it and learnt to live with it. Somehow. For some reason.

This Yuuri had somehow become strong enough to accept Victor’s existence.

Victor couldn’t help but to drown in the giddy feeling at the idea. He proceeded to question Yuuri excitedly about since when and how he learned Russian. Also the why. He could guess, but he wanted to hear the answer from Yuuri himself.

He wanted to savor Yuuri’s cute embarrassed face. He could not forget, despite his excitement, that he might only had that one moment with Yuuri. Maybe next time they met it’d be different. Yuuri might forget about him, about the fact that they’re currently sharing a roof and could pass by each other any time.

That’s probably why he couldn’t pass by the chance.

“Will you skate with me once more, Yuuri?”

Beautiful brown eyes widen in surprise, Yuuri’s mouth wide as if he couldn’t believe what he just heard. As if he never expected it from Victor, as if he didn’t think Victor would recognize him.

(Victor didn’t, and he still felt so _terrible_ about it)

Yuuri nodded, shyly. Eyes on the page which page he kept on fiddling.

The happiness which bloomed inside Victor’s chest was so intense, Victor was breathless for one euphoric moment.

Oh, how deep he’d fallen. Still, Victor supposed, he could understand what that English idiom meant.

Digging one own’s grave could be such a lure.

* * *

It’s so weird, wasn’t it?

Yuuri Katsuki was supposed to only have _now_.

He would forget things and thus his future was limited. There’s a future because of there’s the now, more so than the past. Someone who _knew_ that his present meant nothing would know that he had no future.

Yuuri Katsuki was sad and pitiable that way, Victor had to admit. To have big blank space for a past. To have his life centered around the _now_ which he wouldn’t be able to remember.

Rendered incapable of planning for a future, he only had _now_.

And yet…

Why was it that Victor was the one who felt like he only had that very moment with Yuuri?

* * *

Yuuko had obviously wanted to see, but for some reason, she decided not to.

Instead she just hugged Yuuri, thanking him for fulfilling his promise even though Yuuri couldn’t remember making one in the first place. When they came with Phichit it was her husband’s shift time, so she was rather pissed, apparently.

“Yuuri-kun!! You’re here!! With Victor-san too, oh my! And here I thought you’ve gone back to Russia!”

She was like Victor’s typical fangirl, but there’s something in her that made Victor relaxed more than usual.

Perhaps it’s because despite she’s in the presence of her idol, she still put her childhood friend as priority. Victor had met some people who could ignore their friends who they’d come with to see him, ignoring those close to them whom had fallen, stepped on and hurt terribly.

Yuuko Nishigori made sense, unlike some (at least, he sure hoped so) of Victor’s fans.

It’s not that Victor didn’t know he was great skater with great looks which had graced so many billboards all over the world he’d lost count of the money he got, he just couldn’t think ever himself as _that_ great that people could ignore other’s pain in his presence.

She took one look at Victor, then at Yuuri, who was blushing furiously and fidgeting, and then gasped as if she had just realized something. Her grin turned very much like that cat in Alice in Wonderland, and she honest to God waggled her eyebrows at Victor as she made up some excuses about having to check on her girls.

Victor felt his face heat up, but he had mastered the art of keeping his poker face.

(Victor wondered if all of Yuuri’s friends were the mischievous sort)

“What should we skate to? Any request?”

Victor said, as he skidded to a halt in the center of the rink. Yuuri gingerly stepped into the ice, hesitant. His nervous tic of rubbing his bicep was a tell-tale sign. They’d warmed up together, with Victor remembering the night of the banquet and Yuuri next to him claiming that he would probably ask Victor to be his coach if only he could still skate and thus tried to emulate Yakov in instructing.

But with more smile and patience.

(Also with more hair in his head)

“… uhm.”

“Or do you want to see me skate solo first?”

“…! UHM!”

Victor laughed when Yuuri’s stuttering echoed back to them inside the empty rink as he circled the ice and coming to stop in front of Yuuri. The Japanese skater instinctively skated backwards.

Victor wondered once more about what made him so intimidating to Yuuri.

“Do you not want to skate?”

“… no…”

English could be so hard sometimes. Victor cocked his head as he tried to choose the most probably correct interpretation of that word ‘no’.  No, he didn’t want to skate? No, he _did_ want to skate?

In the end, just in case, he just echoed the word back, making it a question.

“I’ve… I’ve always wanted to skate… with you…”

The one thing to trade about when Yuuri realized that he’s talking with Victor Nikiforov. In the beginning, nervousness would make his sassy and playful personality buried deep under almost unbearable anxiety. But, by experience, usually time would ease that up.

(Also alcohol, but Victor had read up about how alcohol could affect memories and really, let’s not go there)

He could be patient. He could take his time.

Even though he didn’t have a lot of it, he realized.

“I see. How do you want it, Yuuri?”

“Ah… uhm… I’ve never really… thought about it…”

Somehow, it sounded like a lie. Victor decided to not question him on it though and waited for Yuuri to continue since he’s obviously trying to choose his wordings.

“I just… I’m a fan,” he said, lamely. As if that was answer enough.

Victor grinned and took a step forward. Yuuri gulped visibly but held his ground, nervously looked up despite his face still hung.

“What a coincidence. I’m a fan too.”

“… uhm… I’m… I’m sorry, huh??”

Yuuri seemed really confused. It would had been funny if it’s not a crucial point that needed to be reminded to Yuuri. He most likely didn’t write that admission in his notes.

“Current record holder of World’s Junior score. You skated so beautifully, Yuuri. How could I _not_ be a fan?”

As if it’s possible, his face turned redder still.

“… I’m so sorry… about that.”

“Why?”

“I broke… your record?”

“Yuuri, records are meant to be broken. It’s no big deal.”

Victor wondered if that’s why Yuuri ran away. Because despite his satisfaction there’s a part of him which whispers horrible things, probably something about betrayal to his idol. Well, breaking a world record might be an enormous deal to a lot of people, but Victor was a 5 time consecutive Grand Slammer who regularly break his own record. To him it’s no big deal.

It’s been a no big deal since he was younger, to be honest. Victor won so often since his debut that sometimes he even wished someone could drag him down to taste the dirt.

“I wish you could join the Senior. I’d love to see you break my record again, Yuuri. And then I’ll break yours.”

Of course, someone else could also break theirs. Like Chris. Chris was an amazing skater, though he’d been stuck in one step before Victor, his improvements couldn’t exactly outpaced Victor’s growth.

Maybe Yuuri and Victor could plot his demise together. And then Chris could work together with whoever lost and plot the winner’s demise. Maybe they could get Georgi too into the mix, and also Phichit after he joined.

That sounded fun, to be honest.

If only.

“… thank… you?”

Victor laughed then skated backwards, back to the center of the rink.

“How about this, Yuuri. I’ll skate my program first, and then you. Afterwards, we send at the same time what score we think our opponent will get if real judges were here.”

Yuuri visibly swallowed.

“We’re… we’re competing?”

“I didn’t say that. But sure, let’s make it a competition. Winner get treated dinner. How’s that?”

Victor had no intention to underscore Yuuri, so he wouldn’t say he would do whatever it takes to win. Because, not that. Even though he would love nothing more than hearing with his own ears and seeing with his own eyes Yuuri Katsuki asking him out for dinner with him paying.

“I’m…  I don’t think my base score can best yours in any case. My programs are all Junior level. “

“Hm, that’s true. Then, I’ll use my Junior program too. “

Though he supposed, if he could just eat with Yuuri, he didn’t mind being the one asking.

“No. No…  uhm…  it’s okay. You don’t have to- I mean!“

“Yes?“

“…  You don’t have to skate your Junior programs. Your Senior ones are fine. You can skate anything, anyway you want. Uhm, just…  surprise me. Yeah. “

Victor had always loved surprises. As the one surprising and the one being surprised. But still, surprising Yuuri in Victor’s experience more often than not resulted in headaches and pain, and so he hesitated.

But, Yuuri just fixed his glasses, and scrunched up his eyebrows. The edges of his lips tugged upwards a bit. He seemed just like a kid waiting for the clown to start juggling in circus. The idea made Victor relaxed a bit. Well, supposedly, not one child had ever cried over seeing juggling act. It’s the sight of the clown which scared them, most of the time. At least in Victor’s knowledge. Since Yuuri was still fine…

Which would be the most surprising?

There’s that, Victor supposed.

“… On Love, Eros.”

He announced the name before going into starting position.

He ran his fingers all over his body, twisting his torso, following the strums of guitar and violin from his phone, the prototype just sent from the composer.

Took a step back and looked away.

Turned back to Yuuri and smirked.

Carmen seduced everyone with her freedom and wildness. She’s bold and strong and beautiful, and Victor…

Victor could act, at least.

He knew people find him bold and beautiful. But, it’s hard to exude that strong aura when his inside was filled with uncertainty. Still, still…

Yuuri was beautiful. He was also strong in his acceptance of his strange present, the blankness that was his past. Of Victor.

And him fidgeting and being uncertain was not his true self. He could be bold when he wanted to. Victor had known since that time Yuuri suddenly stepped up a table to do 30 fouettes.

He was Odile.

He was Odette.

And Siegfried couldn’t choose.

Yuuri clapped at the end, eyes sparkling and mouth forming plump o. Victor grins at him as he gasped for air, still trying to get used to the program. Yakov would be furious if he saw Victor like that, like doing that program would be too much of a gamble.

As expected, putting all jumps on second half was _exhausting_. And Victor had never been known for his stamina.

Still, Yuuri seemed happy. Even if he’d have to make changes, it’s worth it.

“So, what do you think?”

“… huh?”

“Input, Judge Yuuri. What do you think of what I just showed you?”

Obviously not expecting that question suddenly thrown at him, Yuuri panicked. His gaze shifted to the ceiling, then to ice, and then to Victor, in which then his flailing hands fell as he straightened his posture like a soldier just called on attention.

“It’s very Eros!”

Victor burst out laughing from that answer.

Only Yuuri.

“Isn’t it? Okay, then your turn now, Yuuri.”

Victor made a beeline to the edge, grabbed the water bottle there and drank like a man who hadn’t had water for days. Yuuri watched uncertainly at him, and Victor wasn’t sure if he was worried of Victor’s breathlessness or if he was just not sure what to skate and was waiting for further instruction.

“Do you need music?”

“Ah… uhm… yes, please. But, my phone is a bit…”

“I’ll look it up for you. The title?”

Yuuri took a deep breath. He seemed different, without his glasses. He exhaled audibly, and traces of nervousness went away with the white mist.

“Your third year’s Free program. Midsummer Night Dream, Overture.”

Victor snapped up and pouted. Yuuri was still standing, one eyebrow raised and lips twitching.

He'd been had. 

"Yuuri, no fair."

"You never said which program it has to be. I even told you to skate however you want."

He didn't even try to feign ignorance. Yuuri knew how unfair he was being and was proud of it. So mean.

" _Yuuuuri_."

Yuuri laughed, probably at Victor's face. Grumbling and pouting all the while, Victor get the song ready from his playlist. So mean, Yuuri was just so mean.

There's no way a Free score would be less than Short program's. It's Victor's loss, guaranteed.

Well, as long as he got to see Yuuri skate, he supposed. Victor pressed play and let himself be tricked. At least the dinner part was a go-go.

At least the dinner was guaranteed.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for my lovely friend AL-KILLER for giving advises on this, I love her so much and will draw more for her fics.  
> สวัสดี ครับ (Sawasdee Krap) = Greetings


End file.
